Once again, I shall regale you all with my tales from the Humane Society fundraisers.
So, we have a bi-annual booksale to raise money for the humane society. All of the books we sell are donated by the community. We usually hold this sale in the mall, with the fiction books spread out over several tables set up in a square and then children's books and others in the middle.
Now, we probably have a few thousand paperbacks out for people to browse through. If one of our sections starts to look kinda skimpy, I'll bust out my car keys and slice open a few of the cardboard boxes we pack the books into, that we store beneath the tables. These ARE NOT visible to the public, as they are hidden by a long tablecloth on either side.
Well, I guess our book selection wasn't good enough for some people. I was asked by a woman where the Daniel Steele's were, I showed her, and when I turned around, what do you think I saw?
Three people, on their knees, rummaging around under the tables, opening up our sealed boxes. One of them was using a boxcutter. Seriously, who runs around with a boxcutter in their pocket? I look at them.
Me: Um, excuse me. We would really you rather not do that.
SC1: Well, you don't have anything already out!
Me: Ma'am, most of what is in those boxes is exactly the same as the rest of what we already have set up on the tables. Please put those away.
SC1: *huffs, wanders away*
SC2, SC3: *look sheepish, continue to shop normally*
Also, just because I ask you if you need help finding anything doesn't mean I'm hitting on you. Please stop asking me to be your girlfriend (this happened twice in one day. What, do dusty old books make guys horny, or something?)
So, we have a bi-annual booksale to raise money for the humane society. All of the books we sell are donated by the community. We usually hold this sale in the mall, with the fiction books spread out over several tables set up in a square and then children's books and others in the middle.
Now, we probably have a few thousand paperbacks out for people to browse through. If one of our sections starts to look kinda skimpy, I'll bust out my car keys and slice open a few of the cardboard boxes we pack the books into, that we store beneath the tables. These ARE NOT visible to the public, as they are hidden by a long tablecloth on either side.
Well, I guess our book selection wasn't good enough for some people. I was asked by a woman where the Daniel Steele's were, I showed her, and when I turned around, what do you think I saw?
Three people, on their knees, rummaging around under the tables, opening up our sealed boxes. One of them was using a boxcutter. Seriously, who runs around with a boxcutter in their pocket? I look at them.
Me: Um, excuse me. We would really you rather not do that.
SC1: Well, you don't have anything already out!
Me: Ma'am, most of what is in those boxes is exactly the same as the rest of what we already have set up on the tables. Please put those away.
SC1: *huffs, wanders away*
SC2, SC3: *look sheepish, continue to shop normally*
Also, just because I ask you if you need help finding anything doesn't mean I'm hitting on you. Please stop asking me to be your girlfriend (this happened twice in one day. What, do dusty old books make guys horny, or something?)
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