Fill Yourself with Quarters

Now that I've been working at the Sharing Place thrift store for six or more hours a week for many months, I've gotten a chance to get to know some of the regulars.  One of the many services the agency provides is one that's not really in its main goals or anything.  For many, LSA is a place to go, a "third place" (in the theory that, in addition to places one and two of home and work, everyone needs a third place to go, which is Starbucks according to Nora Ephron).  Our clients can come, see people they know, interact, maybe pick something up at the thrift store.  In the thrift store, often these are people who don't even receive services inside the agency itself, they just visit our most public branch.  I thought I would profile a few of these regulars since they're a rather significant part of pretty much every week.  (I don't know any of their names thanks to my sieve of a brain, so I don't think I'm violating anyone's privacy here.)

One lady I see almost every time I work, although she'll occasionally take a week off completely.  She always wears nurse's scrubs and sounds like she's been smoking 3 packs a day for 20 years.  Most of the time she buys stuff for her teenage daughter, although she always complains about how difficult her daughter is to buy for and how she never likes what this lady buys for her.  When she's come in to try anything on, she's left quickly to avoid being seen in the thrift store.  This lady only buys clothes.  I like her because she'll stand and chat with me at the counter when it's slow, but when it's busy, she can be a bit pushy and isn't always understanding of the difficulties that come with operating such an unstructured line.  

Another lady, who has some sort of minor mental disability, comes in all the time, always requesting to see the toys and housewares kept behind the counter.  She will buy anything priced under a dollar, and if something is particularly gaudy she'll sometimes go up to $10.  I'm told a case worker once cleaned this lady's apartment out of all the stuff/junk she's accumulated from us over the years and decided to donate it to us (perhaps not knowing the original source of the clutter), but the lady was shortly re-buying the same decorations again.

One gentleman always comes in wearing sweatpants, trendy shoes, and a headset for his iPhone.  As he peruses our selection of women's clothing and accessories, he chats with someone or another about a party with Kelis performing or having to be in London tomorrow and other sorts of glamor that seem decidedly above his current ensemble that inevitably includes an undershirt or the fact that his hair always has patterns cut into it like fourth grader from Tennessee.  He usually buys $30-50 worth of 80s-style clothing that I can imagine quite a stylish woman pulling off but that could easily land someone decidedly in the "what was she thinking?" category as well.  I've never asked what he actually does for a living or with all the clothes he buys.

We also have the gentleman who always seems to stop in at the end of his jog, a lady who is the only person who seems to be allowed to buy anything on credit and usually buys upwards of $70 worth of women's clothing and children's books, a gentleman who uses a device attached to his iPhone that scans book UPCs before buying 10-30 that I presume he resells, a lady who occasionally challenges me on store procedures (as I rule, I never bend rules for any customer without specific approval from a normal employee to avoid accidentally being taken advantage of), and a quite fashionable lady who always talks loud and wants EVERYthing that's up on display taken down for her to look at.  Plus all the teenagers and twentysomethings coming in to add a little flair to their wardrobe on a tight budget, all the moms keeping their babies clothed on a rotating stock of the best they can find in our racks as children grow and fall and spill, the homeless people looking for the best deal they can get on as versatile a piece of clothing as possible to get a good bang for their buck, the staff and volunteers at LSA stopping in on their lunch breaks or slow periods.  Some people ignore me, some talk in Spanish in front of me assuming I don't understand (although it can be a little difficult to keep up), some ask my opinion, some think I'm a good luck charm.  All in all, the characters of the Sharing Place keep its staff on their toes.

listening to: mistaken for strangers/the national