Christmas 2011, part 3

Another customer blindsided me with the gift he brought. Shocking and funny (and sweet).

A half-dozen of Thursday's gingerbread cookies were specially designed to look like their recipients and when S___ came in, I dropped the goodiebag on the counter and said, "Aaaand, Merry Christmas. And I designed this guy to look like you." He leans over to see the cookie.

He, by the way, is a professional grump. Dislikes mornings, dislikes his job, says he is "not a conversation starter", and told me he is, "never in a good mood." Obviously I have to bug him as much as I can -- without getting my head ripped off. Some days he won't even look up and his scowl is COLD. (Sometimes I am quite uncomfortable.) It is lucky for him that I've remembered his smokes since February so when he doesn't want to talk, he doesn't have to.

So, the gingerbread dude had a large frown and a furrowed brow. (I tell you: an unhappy gingerbread man is an odd sight.) He leans over and says, "That's funny," with no change in facial expression. I smile small-ly while making change, relieved he said ANYTHING and wasn't insulted (or indifferent). He goes on, "Actually that's hilarious," his tone barely changing but sounding sincere, and at this moment of typing I am now wondering if he found it hilarious because my taking the mick out of him meant he had to laugh at himself. I don't remember how I responded but he was soon gone.

The next day he came in before 7.30 as always, looking the same as always: huge, well-worn workman's boots, factory-blue trousers, oversized fluorescent-orange & reflective-yellow fleece sweater covered in what I will call soot.
He is halfway to the counter from the door and I turn for his cigarettes. He picks up some Halls and I chirp, "Good morning!" as though I am trying to worsen a hangover - same as always. No discernible response - as usual.

I take his money and start making change. Out of nowhere, a small canister is on the counter in front of me, accompanied by a gruff, but faintly deadpan, "I don't bake." It's some holidayesque tin of chocolate wafers. It could have been full of gummy worms (I happen to really like these wafer dudes) and it could have been a re-gift but he thought of me and brought me a present.

I told him it was OK that he hadn't baked and that he didn't have time, as he later excused. I was beside myself and either said thank you a dozen times or not at all.