My Shirt Is Your Kleenex

I worked for a while at this small independent video retailer. We had a lot of regular customers and quite a few of those regulars were a tad bit nutty. We had one customer in particular who called pretty much everyday (at LEAST once if not more) and would always ask for us to put cartoon shows on hold for him. He only came in about once a month when his government cheque came in the mail.

This customer was pretty slow, but he was nice and relatively harmless as far as crazy people go. He always ended up putting the same shows on hold over and over again… Like I’m pretty sure by the time I stopped working at the store, he had bought 3 or 4 copies of Josie and the Pussycats complete animated series on DVD. Anyways, because he called so often, he got to know all of the staff by name just by hearing our voices and he could tell who we were when he came in to the store once he heard our voices.

When I left the job at this store, I ended up working for a chain entertainment store in downtown Toronto. You can imagine my surprise when this customer walked into the store to buy some CDs. When he realized who I was, he got really excited and asked for a hug since he hadn’t seen me in a while. I figured since he was a nice enough customer and he was harmlessly crazy, why not? Well I went to give him a hug and I heard him start sniffling and sure enough, his nose was super runny and gross and as I was giving him a hug, he decided to blow his nose into the shoulder of my t-shirt. The same shirt I had to wear for the rest of my 8 hour shift.