once upon a time, i used to work in a camera shop.
the morning, it was a wednesday, had begun quietly. tumbleweeds blew across the floor of the empty shop. we watched the seconds turn into minutes until 12.30. as usual, the crowds were spying from the top of the hill for one of us to leave the shop to go and get some lunch before they launched their attack, like the zulus at rorke's drift. suddenly, we were surrounded.

'hi, how can i help?'
'it's alright, thanks, i'll wait for the gentleman.'
'he might be a while. perhaps you could explain the problem? i might be able to help.'
'no, thank you, i'll wait.'
'in that case, please bear with us. hello sir, how can i help?'
'hello. i have a film here, but i'm not sure if it's been used or not. could you tell me?'
'no, sir. the only way we could tell that would be to get it developed.'
'is there a charge for that?'
'yes, 2.99 if it's unexposed and 3.99 if there are pictures.'
'can't you just have a look?'
'no, sir. that would expose the film and ruin any images.'
'but can't you use that dark bag?' as he spoke, he mimed the action of pulling the film out and holding it up to the...
'oh, i see what you mean. oh well, thanks very much.'
'no problem. hello sir, how can i help?'
'i brought this camera from you not even two weeks ago and then i took it on holiday, which cost a small fortune incidentally, and it didn't work. the lights didn't come on, the lens didn't pop out, nothing, so i haven't been able to take any pictures at all on a holiday our family had been planning for several years, a once in a lifetime trip, and we're left with absolutely no pictures to remember it by. what do you intend to do about it?'
'i'm terribly sorry to hear that sir, perhaps you could let me see the camera? thanks. well the first thing i'd mention is that there's a dent in the body, here. that indicates impact damage.'
'what?'
'impact damage, sir. the camera has been dropped, or otherwise received an impact. from something.'
'well, i can assure you that it's been in its case the entire time, so it can't have. it must have happened in the factory.'
'they come off a production line so it would be rather unusual, and wouldn't explain why you have sand in the battery compartment, which erodes the camera's workings. would you like me to get it sent for an estimate to repair?'
'absolutely not, i've never heard such rubbish. i won't be coming here again.'
'alright, sir. hi, how can i help?'
'i want weights.'
'i'm sorry?'
'weights.'
'weights? er... we're a camera shop. what kind of weights are you talking about? counter weights?'
'weights! i've been getting them here for years.'
''m sorry, i don't think we can help you.'
'weights! WEIGHTS!'
'er... ok, let me see if someone else can help.' i popped out the back to find john the manager, who was eating his lunch and looked at me grimly.
'john, there's a mad old biddy out front asking for weights. sorry to disturb you but she won't budge. i'm stuck.'
'ok, i'm coming,' he snarled, wiping his mouth.
'hello there, how can i help?'
'i want weights.'
'weights? oh, you mean waites. i'm sorry, love. this is a camera shop. it hasn't been a tobacconist for twenty years. and i'm not sure they make that brand anymore, but they sell cigarrettes next door.'
'i want waites. the other man always sells them to me. waites!'
'alright madam, bear with me a moment, i'll go and have a look.' john walked the length of the counter, bending his legs with every step to give the impression on the other side of the counter of walking down stairs. crouching next to the till rolls and boxes of lens caps, he paused for a moment, then turned and walked back, standing up further with every step until he faced her again.
'i'm sorry madam, we're out of stock.'
'bloody typical', she mumbled as she hobbled out of the shop.

and so passed the next couple of hours, during which our stomachs rumbled from lack of food and our cheeks began to hurt from polite smiles. at last, we seemed to be defeating the queue, only two were left. seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, i beamed a genuine smile at the scruffy, awkward looking fellow who reminded me of the ex-leper in life of brian, shifting from side to side.

'hello, sir, sorry to keep you waiting. how can i help?'
'do you sell compasses?'
if you ever need a compass, go to a camera shop. i don't know why, but they always sell compasses. perhaps because they also begin with c.
'yes, sir, we do. they start at 8.99 for the basic one, but we also do ones with mirror sighting, or for use with either metric or imperial scales.. would you like to have a look?'
'yes, thanks.'
he looked at them with a mixture of suspicion and fear.
'would you like any advice, sir?'
'er, no thanks. but,' he paused, scratching his head. 'er, do you have any that don't always point north?'
the effort i put into not laughing was wasted by the last guy in the queue who proper pissed himself. i saw the bewilderment in ex-leper's eye.
'no, we don't, sir. but you could try dixons.'
(threadkiller, Sun 7 Sep 2008, 4:30, Reply)