When you work with the public you see some disturbing stuff. Sad stuff, disgusting stuff, weird stuff. Our store is in a lower middle-class area and lower middle-class, doesn't just mean economically disadvantaged. For instance, I had to take a kiddie pool out to a truck for a customer today. A mom with three kids, all under eight years old. She had me put the pool in the back of an old Dodge truck. She and the kids were all piled into the front, completely unrestrained, with the toddler standing on the seat next to his mom. What year is this? When I went in to the store, one of the cashiers said that when Mom drove up, the older two kids were riding in the back of the truck. Someone needs to tell her she is an idiot. We also get people trying to salvage things. Sometimes it is because they have to squeeze a bit more life out of something, and sometimes it is for other reasons. We have lots of older widows in the neighborhood and they don't have anyone that they can rely on to fix broken stuff, so they bring it in. Broken rakes that need a new handle, lamps that won't light, eyeglasses with missing screws, weed eaters with tangled line, just about anything that that they can carry, they bring in to have us take a look. Most of us are happy to do what we can. We are right next door to a thrift store and some people bring their found treasures in looking to spruce them up or mend them in some way. We see more than a few watches from the thrift store. People usually come in for a battery, hoping that a new battery will resurrect an old watch. Sometimes it does, but mostly it doesn't. Today a guy came in with a teenie tiny perfume bottle that he found in the thrift store. It was sterling silver and he said it was from the 1930's. The only problem was that it leaked from the top. He wanted to stop it from leaking, before he surprised his wife with it. I put a tiny o-ring on the threads, which stop the leaking, but he said it didn't look authentic. The o-ring looked like it belonged on the bottle when the cap was on, but Mr. Bigshot wasn't satisfied. I guess he probably had to go to a hardware store where they have an antique repair section. This afternoon an older woman came in to pick up her crucifix. That's just what she told me, "I'm here to pick up my crucifix. Bill was going to repair it for me." Bill is the saint of the store and is loved by one and all. He goes way above and beyond for the customers. Some of the older customers call and ask that he bring them this item or that and he cheerfully does it. Bill has a following of hundreds of customers who shop in our store because he works there. If he left, they would too. I like to think of myself as Bill in training, but I flatter myself. I found the repaired crucifix in the back room and gave it to the customer. It turned out to belong to her one hundred year old mother, who was sitting in a chair nearby. she was delighted to get it back, nearly as good as new. Repairing stuff is the real fun in the job. It breaks up the monotony of working and people are really happy when you can fix something. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky