Friday, June 30, 2006


As we bang on about with nauseating regularity, we are capable of getting just short of a million titles into the shop next day. (Obviously, not all at once. Not if we also wanted to get into the shop ourselves and unpack the boxes. But you catch my drift.) Customer ordering is our *thing*. (Suck it and see on the link to your right!) Anyway, there is a very lovely friend of my parents who lives just round the corner from the shop, and who comes in I'm sure partly out of loyalty to me. In fact, increasingly I'd say she comes in *entirely* out of loyalty to me, because, despite the fact that we can - and do - get almost anything for our other customers, we can never, ever, ever get the books that she wants. They're not even that obscure. They're just always reprinting, or just slipped out of print so fast that we don't know they're out of print when she comes and asks for them (for any other customer the computer would say NO) - essentially, because of some dreadful misalignment of the stars we are giving her, and her alone, TERRIBLE service - and I can see her smile becoming more strained and tight every time I say 'I'm so sorry, we just can't get that for you...' And she is the *only* one. She is lovely and we are rubbish. Why?

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