Story 83: Bookseller Beleaguered

(This is from a sketch I wrote a few years ago, based upon personal experience and observation)

(Scene takes place at the front cash register in a bookstore.  The bookseller at the register goes through the motions with dead eyes.  There is a line of at least 10 people that continuously grows)

Bookseller: (Speaking unenthusiastically as the current customer at the counter takes her bag and leaves) Thank you for shopping at a bookstore, e-books will never fill the void in your soul, next.

Customer 1: (Carrying a small paperback) Just this.

Bookseller: All right.  (He scans it) $8.55.

Customer 1: I only have a 20.  (He hands over the bill and digs in his pockets as the Bookseller enter the amount and the drawer opens) Oh, wait!  I have 13 pennies!

Bookseller: Now I don’t like to depend on a machine to figure out basic change, but to jump in with $20.13 for an $8.55 bill would give even an Honors student pause. (He takes out a calculator)

Customer 1: (Hopping up and down and waving the bill and coins under the Bookseller’s face) Come on, man, I gotta go!

Bookseller: Here! (He exasperatedly throws some change and the book at Customer 1 and yells after him running away) By the way, there’s a camera in the parking lot that’ll see which car you get into, so if my drawer’s short tonight I’m coming after you!  (Customer 2 has walked up to the counter) Wasn’t quite ready yet.  (He closes the register drawer)

Customer 2: Hi, I'm just getting this candy bar.

Bookseller: (He scans it) And the book?

Customer 2: (She drops a textbook onto the counter) Actually, can I leave this with you?

Bookseller: (He sees that Customer 2 is carrying a notebook and that the textbook has a cracked spine and worn pages.  He picks up the textbook and leafs through it) You took notes from this, didn’t you.

Customer 2: Um, yeah.

Bookseller: (He throws the book over his shoulder onto a growing pile behind him) You exploited this book.  It’s no good to anyone now.

Customer 2: (She leaves money on the counter and grabs the candy) Freak.

Bookseller: Go home, book rapist! (Customer 2 runs out of the store as the Bookseller puts the money into the register drawer)

Customer 3: (Arrives at the register with a magazine and speaks in a low voice) Yeah, can I have the latest, um, you know, mumble mumble?

Bookseller: Shyeah, OK.  (He reaches under the counter, scans a sealed magazine, picks up the magazine Customer 3 had brought to the counter, and holds it up with the cover facing out to show that it features marijuana.  He addresses his supervisor who has appeared suddenly at the end of the counter) Holy cow, we sell this?  It’s not even legal in this state yet!  (Customer 3 hangs his head in shame)

Supervisor: Dude, we have a whole section on how to grow it.

Bookseller: (Takes the money Customer 3 gives him and bags the magazines) Really?  That’s like selling pamphlets on how to make your own moonshine during Prohibition!

Supervisor: I know, it’s crazy.

Bookseller: (To Supervisor as Customer 3 slinks away) Listen, could you hop on my drawer for a few minutes?  I gotta go to the restroom really bad.

Supervisor: (Sees the growing line and freezes) Dude.  I can’t ring on your numbers; I’d need a manager to switch the drawer over.  (Her eyes dart to the side) I hear the phone ringing.  (Runs away)

Bookseller: Dead to me.

Customer 4: (Gives the Bookseller a mass market paperback and a piece of paper) I forgot my discount card, so here’s the phone number it’s listed under.

Bookseller: (Enters the number into the register) Oh, I see that this is for an educator discount card.  (He holds up the book) And I see that this is a romance novel.  Do you teach sex ed. to perverts?

Customer 4: You –

Bookseller: Buuuut we’re not supposed to question discounts during hard times such as these.  (He hits a key to enter the discount) $3.83.  (He takes the exact change and gives her the book in a bag) Have a fun prep period, wink.  (Customer 4 leaves in a huff.  Customer 5 walks up to the counter as the door alarm sounds) Excuse me.  (The Bookseller instantly appears at the door in front of a previously unseen customer, who is holding a bag) Hello!  Could you pass the bag through the checkpoint, please?

Shoplifter: You can’t search my bag!

Bookseller: I’m not asking to search your bag, I’m asking you to pass it through the checkpoint again to see if the event can be duplicated.  (The Shoplifter waves the bag between the poles and the alarm sounds again)  Now I’m going to search your bag.  (The Bookseller snatches the bag and pulls out a book) May I see your receipt to verify that one of our capable employees had somehow rung this up incompetently?

Shoplifter: Uh, I think I threw it out.

Bookseller: No worries!  We can have all the garbage cans searched throughout the entire building until that wayward receipt is located!

Shoplifter: Uh, actually, I don’t think it was today.  I mean, I don’t think it was rung up yet.  Yeah.

Bookseller: Well, let me rectify the situation for you right now!  (Everyone on the line moans)

Shoplifter: Uh – (Runs out of the store)

Bookseller: Please come again, white male, 5’11”, blond hair, age 21-35!  With a slight limp.  (The Bookseller returns to the register, files the book and bag into a bin, and applies sanitizer to his hands.  To Customer 5) Now, may I help you?

Customer 5: Yes, I’d like to return this.  (He hands him a book and receipt)

Bookseller: (Reads the receipt) This says February 12.  How long ago was that?

Customer 5: About three months.

Bookseller: Uh huh.  (He turns over the receipt and points to it) And what does this say?

Customer 5: “Items must be returned within 30 days - ”

Bookseller: Uh huh.  I’m sure that, since you had purchased a book, that reading is one of your strengths, no?

Customer 5: I want to speak with your manager.

Bookseller: Let me save you the trouble and tell you the same thing you would hear in about a minute: this isn’t a library!

Customer 5: (Snatches the items and heads for the door) You made a big mistake, pal – I’m calling your corporate office!

Bookseller: By all means!  They’ll send you a $5 gift card and a coupon for one free “Kiss My Ass”!

Customer 10: (Standing halfway through the line) Hey, man!  Could you call somebody to help you ring, this is taking forever!

Bookseller: With all the turmoil and strife in this world, if the only thing you have to complain about at this moment is a long line, then your life is a very blessed one indeed!

Manager: (Appears next to the Bookseller) Go take your break.

Bookseller: What good are breaks when your soul is dead?!

Manager: Just disappear for 15 minutes, please!

Bookseller: (Leaves the register) No one appreciates conscientiousness anymore.  (He walks to a sitting area where four customers are reading – the table and chairs are covered with and surrounded by books, magazines, and drinks.  The Bookseller’s eyes widen at the scene as the readers stare at him.  He speaks in a quiet voice) You will remove this disaster from my sight within the next five seconds, or else you will clean this entire store after closing.

Reader: This was here when we got here.

Bookseller: DON’T lie to me.  (They stare at him some more) Four!  (They scramble to clean the mess) And the battle rages on forevermore.

Story 82: Interactive Film Experience

            I have seen the movie Throw Stuff at the Screen 199 times – tonight marks my 200^th viewing, and it will be extra special because it also is the movie’s 10^th anniversary, which means so-called “mainstream” theaters finally will be screening it.  Time to introduce the uninitiated masses to what watching this film is all about.

            As with every great interactive movie, the plot is negligible: what really hooks the dedicated fans is the borderline acting, the awkward directing, the random editing, and the intrusive soundtrack.  Individually, each detail is an isolated abomination, an assault upon the senses from which there is no true recovery; together, they create a terrible magic that draws in the observer like a fly to a pitcher plant, and the destruction is bliss each and every time.

            My pal and I always make sure one of us brings the props, or else the viewing doesn’t count.  By props, I mean the stuff we throw at the movie screen at appropriate moments (hence the title).  The 200^th viewing is my turn, and I fully restocked our supply: tissue packets, paper airplanes, and rubber erasers are just several of the items in our celluloid arsenal.

            It takes a while for the movie to get there, but at about 30 minutes in is when it’s our time to demonstrate our devotion.  Once it cuts to the blue sun in the orange sky, my friend and I throw our rubber balls, aiming for dead center and just missing them bouncing off the screen (better luck next time).  I notice that we’re alone in our participation at this viewing, but no worries: the crowd will warm up to the festivities if given enough motivation by us.  During my musings, I almost miss shouting “Don’t do it!” when the main character walks into a dark room, without a flashlight, where the killer is waiting, for the third time – good thing my friend reminds me with our predetermined signals (we’re each other’s backups in case of such distractions).  I can’t believe it when someone “Ssh”s us – don’t tell me they’re actually watching this for the story!

            After the fifth launch of our gear, we have to promise the usher that we’ll clean up afterwards and that we won’t hit anyone else in the back of the head (a rare occurrence, but unavoidable).  It boggles the mind how everyone is this unaware of the requirements for watching this movie.  You cannot sit through it unaided by projectiles and/or phrases to shout at it – the movie is unviewable otherwise.  Once it finally ends on an abrupt cut to a peanut and my friend and I start collecting our belongings to be used at the 201^st viewing, I briefly wonder if the filmmakers are depressed that their passion project has become fodder for people such as us.  I then realize that I need to buy a new slingshot – I’ve had this one since my 23^rd viewing, and it’s all worn out.

Story 81: The Warning

                                   [Not based on a true story - just a bit of fun]

             The 17-year-old student was doing homework at the desk in her room when her 40-year-old self materialized in front of her, looking a little worse for the wear.

            “Whoa, are you me?”  17 asked the one-eyed scarred mess.

            “I am, and I’m glad you figured it out yourself so I don’t have to waste time convincing you,” 40 answered.

            “Nah, I know how these things work.  So what happened to me?  Or should I say, to us?”

            40 shuddered.  “I can’t go into too much detail, but I’m going to tell you exactly what to do to avoid the whole thing.  May I?”  She pointed to a bean bag chair (how she missed that chair).

            “Sure, it’s still yours.”

            40 sank into the chair with a sigh.  “All right – pay attention, because I won’t have much time now that I’m altering the course of my own history.  First thing to keep from becoming me: get out more.  You have friends, use them.”

            “But I’m working on my final papers, and my job at the theater – ”

            “I DON’T CARE!”  17’s eyes bugged out at this.  “Sorry, I usually have to scream to get my point across.  What I mean is, all that stuff is important, but it’s not everything.  You need to see more of the world, so you can face what’s coming down the line.  Get it?”

            17 nodded.  “Yeah, that makes sense.  What’s next?”

            “Two: in three days, that guy you’re crushing on, oh what’s his name – ?”

            17 blushed.  “Tom.”

            “Yeah, that.  In three days, he’s going to ask you to prom.”

            “He is?!”

            “Do not, under any circumstances, go to prom with him.”

            “But I’ve been crushing on him forever!  I thought he didn’t even know I'm alive!”

            “He doesn’t until tomorrow.  It’s the same old story: he realizes he needs you for his master plan, he emotionally manipulates you into thinking you two could have a future together, and then when he achieves his diabolical goal he turns on you like a bad cheesecake and leads to this,” 40 pointed to her torn ear.

            “Tom did that?!  Ewwww!”

            “Well, not him specifically, but he leads you to the incident that does it.  All you need to know to keep your ear and your sanity intact is to steer clear of him.”

            “Does he give me my first kiss?”

            “What?  Seriously, that’s all you’re getting out of this?  He made me get a torn ear!”

            “Fine, I’ll die unkissed if that’ll make you happy.  So what about the eye?”

            “I’m getting to that.  Three: when you see a job posting for the print shop on Main Street, do not apply for it, no matter how tempting it looks.”

            “I don’t think I ever would apply for it – I’m going to go to pharmacy school.”

            “Not in six months you aren’t.  Long story short, working there led to a series of international events where I lost the eye.”

            “Gross.”

            “Yeah.  Finally, four: in two years when the bombs hit, make sure you’re in Alaska.  Trust me, the best survivors came out of there.”

            “What do you mean, the bombs?  Like buildings blowing up?”

            “The A bombs.  One’s bad enough – there were seven, one for each continent.  The poor penguins never stood a chance.”

            “Wow.  I thought we didn’t have to worry about atomic bombs anymore, you know, they were so last century.”

            “History always repeats itself.”

            “Isn’t there a way we could stop it, though?  I mean, it hasn’t happened yet – we could stop it!”

            40 laughed wryly.  “Let’s just say, it’s not the worst thing to happen to this planet.  So, you’ve got everything?”

            “I think so: get a life, no to my crush, no to random job, and move to Alaska.  That certainly went from trivial to world-ending.”

            40 stood.  “Great.  All those tragedies I faced should now be undone, hurray!”

            “So why are you still here?”  17 asked.

            “Hm?”

            “You’ve told me everything to avoid becoming you, so you should cease to exist.  Why are you still here?”

            “You’re right!  Let’s see, if I go back in time to avoid my fate and never exist, then how could I have gone back in time to avoid my fate…?  I see now.  I didn’t go back far enough.  Sorry, kid!”

            “What do you mean?”

            40 jumped back to the night she was conceived and burst into her parents’ bedroom, greeted by them screaming at her in fright.

            “It’s all right, Mom and Dad,” 40 said as she dissolved into the space-time continuum.  “At last, all will be well.”

            The resulting paradox disagreed.