This morning I was reading a news story about a car dealership in Michigan that had offered a panhandler a job. The panhandler laughed at them and told them he makes more money than any of them. Something to think about when you see them with their signs.
Yesterday I went to a new-to-me thrift store that benefits a local animal shelter. I won't be going back. I hadn't been there before because it looked hard to pull into and hard to pull out of. It was. I got there right when the doors opened. At the counter stood a man putting on his deodorant*. I mean, I'm appreciative of anyone who wears deodorant, but no. Just no. The place smelled of mildew. The books, what little they had, were in the basement down a narrow stairwell, and were two to three times more expensive than my usual thrift store. I did find some books, though. When I went to check out, I noticed a bullet-hole in the front window. I said, "Is that a bullet hole or a stone chip?" They said "It's a bullet hole. This used to be a pawn shop." Like that explained it all. Then the gal was all like "was that you that parked over there?" Yep, it looked like a perfectly normal place to park in their dirt lot. "Don't park there. People like to whip through the parking lot to turn around and we've had a lot of people hit backing out of those spots." Ummmm. Ri-ight.
The reason I was looking for a new thrift store is because my regular thrift store was snotty to me the last time I stopped in. (And had been snotty in the past.) Plus, their 'new management' jacked up all the prices. I'm not ever going to be a premier donor or shopper at these places, but I do donate stuff regularly and I do shop regularly. Driving away small customers like me seems unwise. But maybe that's just me. Next try? The Salvation Army location. I just want someplace that'll take my donations and offer me stuff to buy without any irritations.
Anyway, back to the books. I found some really cool stuff - a mystery/suspense anthology with a lot of awesome older crime novelists, a SF anthology with a lot of awesome older SF novelists, an Agatha Christie in the same edition as the one my mom had on her shelf when I was growing up (which I, oddly, never read), a fantasy paperback in a series I've been reading but haven't bought that one yet, a paperback UF by an author I've been meaning to read, and a mystery novel by Isaac Asimov. I didn't even know Asimov wrote any mysteries. Oh, and a Nero Wolfe I hadn't read yet. In hardcover. Score.
Okay, I think that's just about enough out of me for this morning. What have you got?
*Lest you think, 'well, maybe he was homeless', he was later telling me about his two houses and his 20 acres of land. He has a full-time job and volunteers there on his day off. And I saw the brand-new SUV he got out of when he arrived. Plus, I'm pretty sure the place has a bathroom where he could've applied his toiletries. :shudder: