I answered the phone for the first one.
"Otowi Station. This is P-doobie. May I help you?"
"Do you carry tongue depressors?"
"No, I'm sorry, but we don't. We're a bookstore."
"Oh. Well, do you know where I can buy tongue depressors?"
"You might try the pharmacy at the hospital or a medical supply company."
"Oh, yeah! A hospital! I hadn't thought of that! Thanks!"
For the next weird call, I eavesdropped on Becky's telephone conversation.
"Thank you for calling Otowi Station Bookstore. This is Becky. How may I help you? . . . . You need a book on food poisoning? . . . . Oh, excuse me. I misunderstood. You want to know whether you have food poisoning. Um, okay. Well, are you nauseated? . . . . Okay, do you have a fever? . . . . Mmm hmm. Have you vomited? . . . . Okay. And do you have any diarrhea or cramping? . . . . Well, I'm not a doctor, but it sounds as if you don't have food poisoning. You might want to call your own physician to make sure, though. . . . You're welcome."
Otowi Station, your full-service bookstore.
3 comments:
WHY WHY WHY are more sitcoms NOT set in bookstores? It's a natural. All you need is a phone and Newhart-esque "I'm the only sane one in the room" manner, and BAM. Wackiness ensues.
And then the walk-ins...whoa.
Pegster is livin' the dream.
People that call bookstores must believe that workers there have read all the books in the store...therefore, they must be experts at everything! You guys ROCK!!!
Booksellers. Keeping the world informed.
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