Entitlement On Display

I work in an art gallery, taking admissions and managing the gift shop. Last year, my predecessor in gift shop management ordered ten copies of three different books that are related to WWI and WWII, but, while nice little history books, aren’t really the kind of thing one usually gets from an art gallery gift shop.

I recommended books from the Canadian War Museum which had images from various artists focusing on WWI, especially Vimy. The timing would have been perfect since it had been a hundred years since the end of the war and many places were talking about it. Instead, she went with the three books from a local publisher; we only sold one.

The publisher gives retailers the option that one can return books for a refund, so long as it’s been no more than a year since they were ordered and they are still in sellable condition.

Since we are coming up on the end of the year since those ones were ordered, I make arrangements to return all but one copy of each to the publisher — keeping the single copies out for our Remembrance Day display — along with some other titles of theirs. Due to an upcoming expansion, the gallery gift shop will be moved to a different space in the building and reduced to about a quarter of its current space, so the more stuff I can move out of here, the better.

The books are in a box, taped shut, and ready for when the courier arrives.

A woman comes up to me and asks if I have more copies of one of the titles I have on display.

Me: “We do, but they’re in a box waiting to be returned.”

Woman: “Oh, I just know I won’t forgive myself if I don’t get a copy.”

I assume this means her friend is buying the other.

Me: “Oh, well, if you’re both getting one, I’ll gladly take one out for you.”

Woman: “Oh, thank you so much! I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Me: “No problem at all!”

I try to lift the tape in such a way that I can seal it again afterward, but it doesn’t work, so I just rip it off and trash it. After getting the book she wants, I grab the one on display and ring up the code in the computer. While this is going on, a man wearing a jacket with the courier company logo comes in, and I haven’t retaped the box shut yet. He waits while I finish with the two women.

Me: “Okay, who’s first?”

I look from one woman to the other:

Woman: “I’m buying.”

She holds out a 20$.

Me: “Oh, you’re buying both?”

Woman: “No, just one, dear.”

I look to her friend, confused.

Me: “So… are you buying one, as well?”

Her friend shakes her head.

Me: “So… just the one copy?”

Woman: “Yes, that’s right, dear.”

Me: “You could have taken the display copy.”

I say this in a “helpful” tone, trying to convey that I would have been fine with her taking our “last” copy.

Woman: “Oh, no, I never take items from the display.”

I maintained a smile, sold the book, put it in a paper bag, and handed it over along with her change and receipt. Then, I bid them a good day as they left. Then, I had to turn my attention to taping the box shut once more to hand over to the courier, all the while inwardly facepalming over the uselessness of having had to open the box in the first place, since she was only buying one copy, just because she didn’t want “the display copy.”