The Cobbler
A grocery store near where I live rents out little alcoves at the front of the store to small businesses. One lies empty, but the other contains a small shoe repair shop. It cannot be more than eight feet wide by 15 long. It smells like old leather and melted wax. The shelves lining the walls display all sorts of polishes, laces, and other shoe accessories. Any other free space is piled high with paper bags containing works in progress: boots with no soles, high heels without the heel, scuffed dress shoes, and other strange pieces of leather that I do not recognize. I notice an army green, turn-of-the century buffing wheel in the repair area behind the checkout counter.
I start my summer job tomorrow, so I stopped in to get some black polish to rejuvenate my InternWear™ dress shoes. As I reached for a bottle of liquid polish, the spindly proprietor shook his head in dismay. In a soft, breathy voice he said, "no, no, no. Don't get the liquid. That will ruin your shoes. You need to go with the old-fashioned paste. It will protect the leather and extend the life of your shoes. Down and to your right." I picked up a small tin and looked to him for approval. He nodded. After I paid, he placed the tin carefully in small paper bag, stapled it closed, and handed it to me reverently.
The Framer
A while back I needed to buy some matte board with which to mount some more celica ads. The only place I found that sold large sheets was a small frame shop in a nondescript strip mall. A bell rang as I entered and a small white terrier came sprinting through the store to see who had arrived. A voice called out from the back, "Just a moment, my friend. I will be right with you." The dog watched me diligently as I looked at the pictures leaning in deep stacks against the walls. "How may I help you, my friend?" said the proprietor as he picked carefully between pictures and a queen bed-sized cutting table. I told him I needed some matte board. He retrieved a sheet from the back room. "You are a student, my friend? We get many students buying matte board from us, don't we [dog's name]."
I get asked that all the time. Is it really that obvious?
The dog jumped up on the counter as I paid, then tailed me to the door as I left.
The Comic Book Guy
It became a ritual for me to go to the comic book store whenever I came home from school for weekends or vacation. The same bearded cashier was working every time. He probably has a strange opinion of me.
Michael's former IM screenname incorporated IG-88, an obscure Star Wars droid that appears for a few seconds in The Empire Strikes Back. George Lucas nevertheless made a 12 inch action figure of it. The comic book store had one displayed prominently on the front counter. I of course had my camera with me and decided to take a picture to send Michael.
I had asked the cashier if it was okay for me to take a picture, but he still looked at me strangely. "That'll be ten dollars," he said when I finished.