More punk than rock

It's always wonderful when someone recognizes, or somehow feels a relation to, a customer coming into the store. Wonderful in the sense of flensing off every last square centimeter of skin before immersing oneself in lemon juice. Never does this event occur when the one following the other in is not problematic.

At least this last incident was not engendered to provoke or continue an altercation. That's at least a minor comfort.

Unfortunately, it was bad enough even without conflict. The follower today wanted to talk music and concerts with a couple attempting to quietly shop. They seemed relaxed and not annoyed by the loud questions and name dropping of various punk rock notables so I didn't quash him. You better believe I was looking for anyone in the building who seemed bothered by that rope-farming yahoo.

Unsurprisingly, his attention wandered since the couple was more interested in their browsing than conversing with this guy. So what would provoke the biggest "Duuuuude!" exclamations from this guy? Indeed, his gaze was arrested by the bondage gear. Moments later, he's said enough for me to kick him and his stale malt liquor halo out the door, but leaves before the words can slip past my lips.

He pulled two curtain calls, poking his head in the door and sharing some gem of wisdom to the original couple or showing off one of his treasures before ostensibly leaving for good.