Soul Survivor

One of the problems with having worked in isolation for the past year, or so, it that there wasn't much regular contact with other people. Sure, I saw the occasional friend and the odd family member, and I do try to make it to the regular Saturday morning coffee get-togethers, but that is not the same as daily contact with people who don't have fur and four legs. Spending so much time alone makes me feel, well, a little weird, and that I'm stranger than most other people.

Now that I'm back in the mall, there is ample opportunity to interact with, or observe, lots of people who do not belong to the aforementioned groups. And, being back among a lot of seriously strange people has made me feel so much better about my own peculiarities. A lot better.

• 
  I am loving the children that are in the stores and the mall areas. It brings back so many wonderful memories of when my children were young. So, now I get to enjoy the little ones that come to shop with their parents, and since I'm so close to Santa, I am able to see lots and lots of them. Very cool part of this job.
• A woman came in wanting children's books in languages other than English. She wasn't sure what titles or languages she wanted, which made it a little difficult to help her. She also wanted me to find a spinner rack for her, the kind that holds small books. We like to give our customers the best service possible, but, come on, you have to give us something to work with. I spent part of my day off doing some research for her. I hope that she appreciates it.
  
• A man came in, holding a Styrofoam box, loaded with enchiladas, beans, rice and chips. He made his way through the store, leaving greasy fingerprints all over the place. I followed as best I could, discretely cleaning up after him. He was later joined by an older woman, who bought a calendar. As I took care of her, her companion put his messy plate on the counter. I kept silent, but it wasn't easy. After the transaction was completed, they both started to walk away. I called after the man, telling him that his food was still here, and he called back that it was fine, he was finished with it. The people waiting in line and I had a chuckle over it as I put the plate on the floor and wiped the counter. I still can't figure out where the heck, in the mall, he got that box of food.
• I'm not a prude. Honest. I'm really not. Still, I have a problem with some of the adult-themed calendars we are selling this season. One of the models is an adult, but very, very young looking athlete. Somehow, that just doesn't seem right. OK, maybe I am a prude. You can always tell when a man is coming in to look at these calendars. Go ahead, stop to look at the puppies and the sports cars, we all know why you're here. Actually, it is kind of amusing, and I really don't mind. What I do mind is when some of them start to touch themselves. Eeeeeewwwwwww! One man kept zipping in and out of the store last week. Grabbing one of these calendars, looking intently at it and zipping right out again. I didn't intend the zipping to be a pun, but I guess it is. After doing this several times, he zipped in again and said "How much are you going to gouge me for this calendar?" I followed him to the section and took the calendar from the rack and told & showed him the price. He started to talk about all the pretty ladies and I didn't stay around for the rest, just went back to the front of the store, hoping for another customer to take up my time. He made a couple more attempts at conversation, and just before I asked him to leave, he finally saw the look on my face and zipped right out again. A co-worker told me about her customer that keeps coming back to ask for the male calendars with the younger boys. I hope that he shows up when I'm working so that I can call mall security. The bookstore sells adult magazines and apparently there is a regular contingent of men that come in on Sundays and generally gross out the female staff. They are called the Sunday People. I thought personal computers and the Internet were supposed to take care of this sort of thing, keeping these guys out of the mall.
• Another nice thing is that there is an older man who is at one of the kiosks near my store. He sells and repairs jewelry and watches. He also makes gold jewelry, chains, pendants and rings. I hear that he has been in the mall for a year, and he must be doing very well, by the number of people who stop by. It is very pleasant to hear the whir of his polisher and the tink-tink-tink of his hammer as he shapes the gold into little works of art. I wonder if the mall appreciates having this artisan here. I don't buy many gifts, preferring to make them, but I know that I won't be able to resist purchasing some of his little treasures.
• There is a tiny woman who walks in the mall most days. One day, as she was passing my storefront, she saw me dusting the shelves and she started laughing while she walked inside. She said something about how she never considered that calendars might need dusting, but apparently they did, because there I was, dusting them. It didn't take long to realize that she just wanted someone with whom she could talk for a while. There weren't any people in my store, so I dusted, and she talked for some time. In ten minutes, she told me nearly her entire life story. Then she turned and rushed out when another person came in. I haven't seen her since, but hope she wanders in again to pass the time.
• A woman and her son came in looking for a dinosaur calendar. They already had the one we carry, and the little boy told me so much about it that he must have already memorized every word and picture on it. I promised to watch for a different one for him. It still makes me smile at how excited he was about raptors. I want that kind of enthusiasm about the world, or, even just a little piece of it. To him it came naturally. For me, well, I'm just going to have to work on that. But, I'm feeling pretty darn optimistic.

It's the wise woman who knows herself, and I hate ending with a gripe, but...

On a more personal note, I have felt that I, physically, may be doomed. My usual postures are sitting at this desk or my work table, or standing a bit at the easel. All the running around at the stores is something that I anticipated, but for which I was not prepared. I need good shoes and socks. Or new feet. On Saturday, I finally gave up and removed my shoes. My feet hurt so much that even a ton of ibuprofen wasn't helping. I was off on Sunday and recovered a bit, but today was horrible again. It's just a darn shame that I've let myself become so out of shape. I have a new admiration for my co-workers and the way some of them are able to maintain such a frantic pace.

I'm also wondering how I have stayed so young on the inside, but still managed to get so old on the outside.