Ugh. Lord. Like the person who wanted art deco books. But not just any art deco books, he “really preferred American pre-war art deco”. Okay. I’m an art history student and I’m not even that pretentious. Go watch PBS and listen to NPR and leave me alone, okay? You almost made my sweet manager cry because she didn’t know what you were talking about. And also? You just asked for mystery recommendations because you really like Dan Brown. ANYONE who finds anything remotely redeeming from a literary or historical or anything-other-than-Ewan-McGregor-and-I-had-an-afternoon-to-kill perspective about Dan Brown? IS DUMB.
Or the woman who asked me why our sandwiches were advertised as focaccia bread when it was clearly ciabatta. I don’t know. I cut open the packages. That is my extent of the involvement with the sandwiches.
Or the mother and daughter pair who were looking for books about Anne Frank and were slightly concerned about getting it approved when I showed them The Diary of Anne Frank. “Are you sure you don’t have a biography?” Um. No. I’m fairly certain that this, one of the most beloved books of all time, will be okayed by the teacher.