See more » Richard Evans Lee
They first guy in the shop yesterday seemed to have an awful time explaining himself. When Gordon figured out he was asking where the country music CDs are the fellow seemed to have a hard time understanding Gordon's explanation.
The he started asking "Do you have …" music by this or that person. Each time Gordon told him where to look he'd ask about someone else; more interested in asking than in finding. Gordon eventually suggested he browse and escaped by going outside to cut the grass.
When Gordon came back in the guy had converted the pop music section into a scattered mess. Gordon told him to take only one CD out at a time and went in the office. (And closed the door, possibly to get away from the guy.)
Shortly thereafter the guy brought a big stack of CDs to the counter and asked me how much they'd cost ($150). By the time he asked me if I'd hold them for him there was no escaping discerning that he man was in some terrifying way dysfunctional, disturbed - fucked up.
I firmly but politely told him that it'd be best if he left and walked him to the door.
The poor man was schizophrenic or demented in some other way. It hurt a bit to force him out of the shop. There wasn't anything else I could do.