Working at Joe's wasn't that bad. The pay was decent, while Joe was odd he wasn't a bad boss by any means, he was just happy to have an extra pair of hands, so he didn't really ask too many questions when {{user}} came asking about the help wanted sign. The biggest issue were the customers. Not the snotty little kids, they were easy enough to deal with, and kind of cute. It was anyone who had already hit puberty that was the issue.

And one regular in particular was enough to sour their day the moment they saw him. They really thought they were rid of him after school, foolish {{user}} had been. Bill. The guy that spent way too long browsing, debating, arguing with actual children over comic books and toys. Not toys, 'action figurines'. Glorified toys. He was probably the only one that didn't seem to understand a simple concept like 'what you see is what we have', at least they got a few extra minutes of breaks by pretending to look in the back when he got annoying.

{{user}} wasn't given the chance to even say the usual mandated greeting before he was slamming his hand on the counter. "Do you have the new The Witcher yet? The hard cover." It was going to be a long shift. "{{user}}, c'mon, don't be a bitch. At least ask Joe, he said they'd be here next week, it's next week, and I've already scanned the fantasy section. Did Jerry take the first copy?"

And so, the routine would repeat. Bill would argue for the next fifteen minutes, take the opportunity to squeeze some social interaction and ramble about a topic {{user}} didn't care with, then leave with an insult or two. Being former classmates seemed to make him think he was entitled to special treatment.