Aunt Iques and Uncle Junk, HYUCK
I gave notice at work this week, because as much as I love working overmuch for very little, I'm pressing on to greener, better-paying, benefits-laden pastures. I will miss the very particular kind of customers one gets when one sells junk, though.

This lady yesterday kept coming up to the desk to ask fairly mundane questions---"Where's the bathroom?" "What's the price on this?" "Can I sit on this?"---but she would preface each query with another:

"Can I ask you a game show question?"

I think it was her TV catch phrase. I bet I can buy a t-shirt from her website.

Anyway, I am mentally out the door, kids. There's this inner clock ticking down to Not Here, and I am far too busy paying rapt attention to it to deal with "customers" or "my duties." Normally I'm all about keeping busy, but yesterday I formally decided Forget It. Instead of working on store documents or even mundane stuff like stock, I played Solitaire for two hours. It was a very How The Other Retail Half Lives moment.