CHAPTER AND VERSE ON BOOKSHOP CUSTOMERS

Shaun’s guide to the less than magnificent seven visitors to his shop.

The Expert

This kind of customer is, on the whole, a self-appointed expert who comes into the shop for no other reason than to lecture you about their specialist interest is and derives a singular pleasure when you know nothing about it.

The Young Family

Before I had a family, I was resentful of young families coming into the shop. Nobody wants sticky-fingered children getting stuck into shelves, particularly when they contain rare books. Now, though, I understand both that there is nothing you can do to stop children behaving the way they do and that their parents still want to have a tiny dose of culture in a world of nappies, Peppa Pig and vomit.

The Occultist

They are solitary creatures, and always visit the shop unaccompanied, although I suspect this is not through choice. They lack even the most basic social skills, and in most cases seem to have failed to grasp the rudiments of personal hygiene. The dead, it would appear, have no sense of smell, or style.

The Erotica Section Loiterer

They certainly dress as you imagine a flasher might: long coats, collars turned up, hats and occasionally dark glasses. And beards. They all have beards.

The Pantalons Rouges

It is not mandatory the red trousers are made of corduroy, but in most cases they are. They are over 55 and have children who are stockbrokers. They know exactly what they want (usually military or family history, hunting or heraldry). No member of this species is complete without a Labrador, named after a historical figure or object connected with the armed forces.

The Not So Silent Traveller: The sniffer

I don’t understand why some people, when afflicted by a cold, choose to sniff every three seconds rather than blow their noses. A number of the people who fall into this category appear to wear anoraks.

The American Family Historian

I’m fairly sure they’re really looking for some sort of evidence they are the clan chief, and that a damp ruin in Argyll is their birthright, when in fact it is obvious their great-great-greatgrandfather’s status in was not laird but rather that of the laird’s latrine cleaner.

Sevenkindsofpeopleyou