Some of us shopkeepers have probably gotten used to a comparably fresh phenomenon called strangers. Those who don’t exactly know what I mean might now be thinking about foreigners or visitors from another village, perhaps. No! The strangers I’m talking about are far more insidious: strangers to their own kind. When did they appear? How did they come about? What do they want? There is no telling. We can only give tips on recognising them. What you do about them if you spot them in your shop is your business.
Since there is no scientific method of telling whether a customer is a stranger or not, I can only relate a story to give you a sample of alarming stranger behaviour. This happened in my very own boutique a few months ago. All present were ready to agree that the person in question was clearly plotting something unknowable to another human.
It was a windy day in November, not particularly dry. Business had been slow through all morning, and I was already worrying about the future – as is my wont. I’m sorry to say that I had already started snapping at my underlings and had even slapped a clerk for not making a sale when there were no customers.
The day grew constantly darker. We had not made enough money to pay the month’s rent before lunch. I felt economic depression strangling my peaceful life into a lifeless, rotting corpse despite having made enough money the previous month to pay all expenses until May 21, 2045. I was mulling over all this when a solitary man suddenly caught my eye.
He was tall, not very handsome, and there was a looming quality about him. His clothes were nothing out of the ordinary; neither were his general features. My shopkeeper senses immediately categorised him as price range B+. When I spotted him he was hovering his hand over a pile of discount toothbrushes as if wanting to buy one and not daring. Something about that hovering hand was wrong.
I gave the man a sharper look. Suddenly it was all out of place, somehow. I didn’t have the uneasy feeling I always get when someone is just about to steal something. This went far deeper. Was it fear of death I was feeling when I kept looking at this man’s hand? The way he looked at those innocent brushes seemed too concentrated. Was a he a professional killer? A hired agent to bring my boutique down? No. There didn’t seem to be that cold-blooded lack of glint in his eye. It had to be something else.
I nudged the nearest clerk and indicated the man’s hovering hand to him, but as soon as I did this, the man moved his hand and picked a loose hair off of his felt jacket. How had he guessed his weird behaviour had been noticed? I was staring slack-jawed as the man, feigning indifference, took the few steps needed to bring him to the normally-priced toothbrushes, picked one, and walked straight to the cashier. He was gone in less than a minute. He was gone.
The man appeared a few more times during the same month, and soon he became a regular in my store. He was always friendly to the personnel, always paid without complaining about the prices (which are reasonable enough) and never once repeated his strange behaviour. His hands went about their business in a normal way; no more hovering over toothbrushes. I never forgot, however. I still have my sights on him. Next time I will be prepared.
If a similar stranger has appeared in your store you can immediately relate to this story, I think. I’m very sorry that I don’t have an immediate solution to the problem this poses. We can only keep watching and hoping for the best.
And if you think the man’s behaviour was nothing out of the ordinary: be careful when picking sides.