(This is the second year I’ve gone to the local Renaissance fair with my boyfriend, and the first year I’ve had any kind of money to spend, so I’m quite eager to head to one of the major costume shops along the main street. The capes from this shop are STUNNING, and I have been wanting one for years, so I’ve made sure I’ve got what I think is enough money to buy one. I drag my boyfriend over to the stall to look over which ones he thinks look best on me.)

Me: “Excuse me, how much are these emerald cloaks over here?”

Shop Lady: “Oh, the unpainted ones are [price way higher than I expected], but if you want one of the painted ones, it’s [higher price].”

Me: *heart sinking a good bit* “Oh, okay. Thanks!” *I sigh and whisper to my boyfriend* “Oh, well. I can always get it next year.”

Boyfriend: *smiling as he squeezes my hand* “You sure? I can lend you the money or something.”

Me: *awkwardly blushing, wondering if it sounded like I was guilt-tripping him to pay* “Nah, it’s fine; I don’t need it, and I don’t know when I could pay you back. Thank you so much for offering, though. It means a lot to me.”

(I go back to admiring the painted capes, making sure I knew which cape I’d want the next year when I could get one for myself. My boyfriend excuses himself for a moment and one of the shopkeepers chats with me for a bit. Next thing I know, my boyfriend is back with one of the bags the store puts purchases in. I stare at him for a moment before it clicks.)

Me: “Did you…?”

Boyfriend: *with a smile that I swear lit up the whole park as he hands me the bag* “Don’t worry about paying me back. Consider it a two-week-early birthday present.”

(I’m ready to cry, I am so touched! My whole face warms up as I blush, and I can’t stop grinning. He takes my hand and gives it a gentle kiss, looking at me adorably.)

Shop Lady: *winks* “Just so you know, those capes are waterproof if you ever wanna wear yours after a shower. Say, after he’s gotten home and you’ve got nothing else to greet him in…”

(Now it was his turn to blush as I giggled uncontrollably.)

Customer: “Hey, I’m looking for a cow costume.”

Me: “Yes, sir, I actually have several cows. I’ll bring one right out.”

Customer: “You have several? Good, I actually want two: a male and a female.”

Me: “Okay, sir, I’ll be right back with both.”

(A short time later.)

Me: “Here is the cow, and this is one of our bulls. I actually have him in three colors: black, white, or brown. Do you have a preference?”

Customer: “A bull? That’s your male cow?”

Me: “Uh, yes. A bull is a male cow.”

Customer: *skeptically* “I don’t know about that.” *leaves without getting anything*

(My best friend works in a seasonal Halloween store in our town. Since it’s only open for a little over a month each year, and the sister store is a 45-minute drive away, they can get a lot of business on most days. A mutual friend and I go to her work to hang out and look around while we wait for her to get off. The staff is small, but we’re all very close. One of her coworkers has just gotten off the phone and huffs, noticeably irritated.)

Mutual Friend: “Angry customer?”

Worker: “It’s this woman I’ve been trying to contact about a costume. She needed a size for it we didn’t have, so we had to get it from our store in [Town 45 minutes away] and she didn’t answer our call yesterday so I left a message, except she never called back. So I called her again when we opened this morning and she’s just now getting to me demanding why I’m bothering her. I say, if you want the costume, you need to get it today or I have to put it on the shelves for others to look at. It’s a very popular costume this year, and she says she’ll stop by when she’s ready.”

Owner: “You can’t please everyone. We have policies like this for a reason. I can’t tell you how many people want us to hold items but never get them.”

(Fast forward about an hour. The store closes in twenty minutes at nine pm. A pair of young women walk in and head straight for the service counter. It’s obvious this is the woman from the phone calls. We watch her snatch the costume bag from the coworker’s hands. Our friend is manning the changing rooms and walks over.)

Friend Working: “Ma’am? Can I suggest you try the costume real quick before checking out? Just to make sure everything fits comfortably?”

Woman: *snottily* “Well, why? Like, I already know it fits me.”

Coworker: “It’s just that our policy states all sales are final. We don’t do any returns or exchanges, so if something is wrong or missing from the outfit, we need to know now so you’re getting everything you wanted.”

Woman: “Ugh, FINE!” *stomps over to the fitting rooms*

(I’m sitting on the floor with our mutual friend watching the exchange. We’ve made our purchases, most of the lights in the store are off, and other workers are sweeping or unplugging their props for the night. The woman and her friend then spend the remaining time in the front mirror outside the changing rooms loudly gossiping and complaining.)

Woman: “I don’t see why I have to do this. If I don’t like it, I’ll get my money back. It’s just a cheap costume anyway.”

Woman’s Friend: “Like, yeah! As if we weren’t already busy. Whatever.”

(Almost fifteen minutes after the store should have closed for the night, the woman finally gets dressed, buys the outfit, and leaves in a huff. My friend grabs her jacket, clocks out, and practically RUNS to our car.)

Me: “Wow, [Friend], I thought I got all the horrible people at my job!”

Friend Working: “That’s not even the half of it. We get people like that ALL the time. Even people who try to come in December and call [Owner] as if he should even be open then to sell Halloween stuff!”

Mutual Friend: “They were some straight-up b****es.”

Friend Working: “I would have said something if they weren’t going to buy it, but whatever. That’s not even the worst part. When she went to the counter to pay, she demanded a discount for the trouble we caused HER. She said we owed her for ruining her day off by making her come in and pick up her order.”

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(There’s a few Reservations around the region, and there’s an annual powwow that takes place in June. We run into this issue every year, and this is usually how it goes:)

Me: “Did you find everything okay?”

Customer: “Could you find me one that sits on my head right?”

(He holds up an “Indian headdress” – the kind that’s a bunch of dyed multicolored feathers strapped to a band.)

Me: “Uh… are you going to the powwow?”

Customer: “Yep! I wanted to go, and I wanted to be authentic.”

Me: “I would highly suggest you do NOT wear that to the powwow.”

Customer: “What? Why? Isn’t this traditional?”

Me: “No, it’s not. For one, it looks nothing like a real war bonnet, and secondly, in most tribes a real headdress is reserved for great leaders and warriors, and are considered sacred.”

Customer: *blank look*

Me: “It’s considered offensive.”

Customer: “Oh…”

(Usually most customers would put it back, but it happens every year.)

(It is October of 1999. I am in the local fabric store with some friends, getting costuming stuff. We run across a woman buying up materials to make an Anakin Skywalker costume for her nine-year-old son who’s with her. He really, really likes “Star Wars: The Phantom Menace”; it is his favorite movie, and he has come to be a huge fan of “Star Wars”.)

Boy: “I’ve watched the original trilogy of films every week, and I’ve seen Episode I in theaters a dozen times and can’t wait for it to come out on tape!”

Mom: “I hope my boy grows up to be just like Anakin!”

(She then goes on to talk about what a great role model Anakin is for young boys and how she encourages her boy to be like Anakin… Cue the awkward pause and cringe by me and my friends.)

Me: “Uh, do you know that Anakin Skywalker grows up to be Darth Vader?”

Mom: “Don’t be crazy. You’re making that up. There’s no way sweet little Anakin could ever become evil like that. Besides, he doesn’t grow up to be Vader. They have different names, after all.”

Me: “These are prequels. They are set decades before the original films, right? Okay, the hero of the original films was Luke Skywalker, right? Okay, remember the ‘No, I am your father’ part that Vader says?”

(That is when it clicked for her. She’d never put it together. She got a look of abject horror on her face when she realized it was true. She grabbed her boy by the hand, dragging him out of the store, saying he was going to be something else for Halloween, he was not allowed to ever watch “Star Wars” ever again, and she was getting rid of all his “Star Wars” stuff because it was filled with such bad role models for children.)

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