I don't remember the context for the giant teddy bear thing, but it became a store catchphrase for a couple months. "[X Topic of Conversation], better than a man!"
The terrifying part is that the notebooks contain maybe five percent of the weirdness we encounter. A lot of things are left unwritten for lack of time and energy, or they are repetetive (same person performs similar oddity every time he/she is in the store), or they are too long and convoluted to readily summarize.
For example, the story of the guy who wanted me to sell him a mixture of coffee beans from all seven continents because he used a special balanced homepathic diet from around the world to cure his girlfriend's diabetes never made it into the book. I ended up making a mix of Kenya AA blend, Hawaiian Kona blend, Columbian Supremo, Copenhagen, and Mocha Java, under the pretext that "Copenhagen is a city in Europe, and Java is in Southeast Asia," even though all our beans (aside from some of the Kenya and Kona blends) are from South America. It was easier to smile and nod and get him out of the store than to argue awful pseudoscience and pseudomedicine with him, or to explain that coffee only grows in certain climate regions that do not include Europe. His bloody, cloth-wrapped knuckles definitely contributed to my interest in conflict avoidance.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2012-08-23 06:40 am (UTC)The terrifying part is that the notebooks contain maybe five percent of the weirdness we encounter. A lot of things are left unwritten for lack of time and energy, or they are repetetive (same person performs similar oddity every time he/she is in the store), or they are too long and convoluted to readily summarize.
For example, the story of the guy who wanted me to sell him a mixture of coffee beans from all seven continents because he used a special balanced homepathic diet from around the world to cure his girlfriend's diabetes never made it into the book. I ended up making a mix of Kenya AA blend, Hawaiian Kona blend, Columbian Supremo, Copenhagen, and Mocha Java, under the pretext that "Copenhagen is a city in Europe, and Java is in Southeast Asia," even though all our beans (aside from some of the Kenya and Kona blends) are from South America. It was easier to smile and nod and get him out of the store than to argue awful pseudoscience and pseudomedicine with him, or to explain that coffee only grows in certain climate regions that do not include Europe. His bloody, cloth-wrapped knuckles definitely contributed to my interest in conflict avoidance.