Mr. Patterson

So the last time I went in, nothing interesting happened. Nothing really interesting happened yesterday either, but I did get to see one of my favorite regulars, Mr. Patterson. Some people aren't so fond of him, mostly those that work the floor, sometimes he's irritating. But at the registers he's fine. I feel there is no way to properly do justice to this gentleman with the written word, but I'll do my best.

He's an old man, quite tall, and quite thin. He has blue eyes and white hair, and is plenty wrinkly. He comes in wearing dress pants and a nice shirt, with a scarf, blue trench, and hat on. Not just any hat mind you, a fedora. The odd manner of dress is part of what makes him interesting, but mostly it's his voice and manner of speaking. His voice is kind of wavery with a slight stutter, likely due to his age, and he's one of those people that if you aren't paying attention you might think is British or something, then you realize, no, he just speaks properly. Except not so properly that he isn't prone to the occasional mumble. And his favorite phrase: "You see."

For instance, last night, he was in the store, and I really wanted him to come to my register so I hurried the boy who was buying some Naruto book with his allowance money and wanting me to check on the price of a bookmark (which are way too expensive by the way, they're like, $3.99, minimum). So then Mr. Patterson comes up and he's buying some bulky classical music compendium for 2008. And so when I ask him, "Anything else for you?" he replies, "Yes, someone to carry it for me!" And it takes me a minute to get his joke. Then he launches into a long rambling explanation, beginning with "you see," of how they normally publish it as a periodical but this year they are forcing everyone to replace it all with a big volume . . . or whatever, I wasn't really listening I was giggling to myself because his voice is so funny.

One of my favorite stories to tell when I do my (very poor) impression of Mr. Patterson is about the day he came in wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and a baseball hat. He came to my register and I said, with exagerrated suprise, "Mr. Patterson! You look so casual today! Why the change?" (I speak to Mr. Patterson using the voice usually reserved for my grandmother and small children). And he said, "Well, you see, I-I was going to go hiking today, you see, but the roads, they were covered in ice. Slippery, you see. So I couldn't go, and I came here."

And that is Mr. Patterson. He is such an odd character, and it's those odd characters that make me occasionally miss working at the bookstore.