A Crime at the Christian Bookstore
As a high schooler, my parents sent me out into the world to procure a part time job. I applied to many places but only received responses from two. The first was a furniture warehouse. As part of their interview process I was given a personality test, which I promptly failed.
(I was guilty of being too authentic)
Q: “Would you steal merchandise from the warehouse? A. Yes B. No”
A: “I want to be honest and transparent about my fallen nature. While I strive to be the best version of myself I can be, I am also keenly aware that Solzhenitzyn’s assertion that ‘the river of good and evil running through the heart of every human being’ very much applies to me… so my answer is ‘A’, yes I would steal merchandise under certain circumstances.”
Luckily, the second place was a Christian bookstore and, as is obvious, Christian organizations don’t give personality tests to the people who work for them.
***
My manager at the bookstore would always ask me, “Are you having fun?” which is a high-pressure question for authentic people. I restocked Christian greeting cards and called customers to inform them the gold engraving on their bible was ready for pickup. I made minimum wage and was there. I felt my work was sufficient and asking me to “have fun” went far above and beyond what could reasonably be expected of me.
Authenticity and fun are my two core values. Fun for me exists in the chaos and carnage of life. I need something unexpected and surprising. Let’s sit back and eat popcorn, while conflict erupts, real emotions come to the surface – that to me is fun.
As associates at this store we were shackled to the Christian ideal of niceness, which in actuality is not very Christian at all. Remember Jesus Christ? He wasn’t so nice, and they hated his ass!
Interactions with customers were scripted with Ned Flandersy politeness. We would personally greet each person who walked through the door, and when they were done shopping, we were required to tell them, “Have a blessed day.”
In retrospect, I guess blessing people as they left the building wasn’t all that bad. In many ways our customer service was the exact opposite of going to Home Depot – where people spit on the floor, scratch their balls, and employees there are so rude and poorly trained that the occasional contractor tries to fight them with a two by four.
Family Christian Bookstores was a bland mirage of churchy products. The shelves were a display of our artistic ghetto, a flavorless tasting of the culture around us. They had all the same pop-culture junk as America’s mainstream, just Christianized.
There were CDs for sale, books, and videos. There were leather-bound family bibles, tacky angel decorations, greeting cards, and even impulse buys at the register – e.g. Christian mints, called Testa-Mints. (“For God so loved the world, he gave his only mint”)
In store music was from bands that sounded like exactly like Dave Matthews – just far less talented. There were books on morality and how the Lord wanted you to get rich quick. Books that were reminiscent of popular fiction but not saying anything at all.
Christians were adrift. Like sheep without a shepherd, roaming around in an anthropological cul-de-sac of our own making.
To their credit, they ran the company like Jesus would, that is, in a financially untenable way. They thought that security cameras were un-Christlike, so every thief and small-time bamboozler would come down to the store to try their hand at stealing merchandise. Many folks, who would eventually go on to do bigger and better things in the wide world of shoplifting, got their start at the Family Christian Bookstore on the corner of Novi Road and 12 Mile.
So, I guess I’m not being fair, it was fun once in a while.
Like moths to a light, crazy people are attracted to comedy clubs and churches. And because those are only open on the weekends, weirdos would flap their wings into our store Monday through Friday.
There was a prophetess who would read my palms and promise great riches. (she owed hundreds of dollars in back ordered bible engravings)
There was the man who berated me in a vulgar manner when he found out we didn’t carry cards for Ramadan. “I thought you catered to all denominations!”
There was even a person with no face (just a dark hole where their mouth, nose, eyes, cheeks, and forehead should be), that was able to communicate telepathically to us what their member rewards number was.
But most of time working a shift there was just plain dull…
***
On a particularly boring July day, the weather was hot, the sky was perfect, and my friends likely lounged poolside sipping Capri Suns from an ice chest. I was on day shift at the bookstore, ensuring that straggling middle aged ladies were able to purchase the latest copy of Purpose Driven Life for their useless husbands.
It was a perfect day for slacking off, but the shift was just me and my manager so we had to settle for fun instead.
I took a hot lap around the store: stocking shelves, cleaning up, rearranging the Left Behind display so that the books were in correct order. The slick beats of Rachel Lampa played on loop in the background.
The jingle of the front door bell went off and we turned robotically towards the customer walking in.
“Welcome to Family Christian Bookstore, how are you today ma’am?”
No response. She didn’t even look up as she made a beeline for the back of the store where the Bibles were sold.
The monotony continued for several more minutes, punctuated by the sounds of packaging being ripped open in the back corner of the store. It sounded like hamster burrowing through cardboard. Clearly she was in the back tearing through merchandise.
My manager waited behind the counter with raised eyebrows.
After a few moments, the woman walked up to the front counter, in hand a NIV comfort print Jesus Bible, soft leather look, brown (indexed) – the Cadillac Escalade of Holy Bibles.
My manager let out a little gasp, this deranged woman was about to steal a highly expensive copy of God’s word!
The woman boldly approached the counter and threw the Bible down. Both women were trying to play it cool.
“I’d like to return this product,” the woman said.
My manager doing her utmost to bathe her voice in Christian kindness, “Ok, and what is the issue with this purchase?”
“I’m UNSATISFIED with the quality of this product!!” the woman’s volume and sudden anger were incongruent with the in-store atmosphere. She’d clearly been smoking the holy ghost that hot summer day.
“Unsatisfied…” my manager repeated.
Now say what you will about the Bible, but it’s objectively done well over the years. It’s the bestselling book of all time, a sacred text, a magnificent work of art, and an encyclopedia of ancient wisdom. It’s not just some cheap Samsung TV you return to Walmart after you’re done watching the Superbowl on it.
Instead of cash, she tried to offer her coupons on the return.
“I can offer you a gift certificate to use on your next family Christian bookstore ….”
“I don't want a damn gift certificate; I want cash honey!” The woman was becoming more agitated, perhaps she’d heard about the ease of theft here and hadn’t anticipated such resistance.
“Ma’am, I think you should leave…”
The woman lunged forward to grab the bible before running for the door. My boss reached down too, and the two women were suddenly in a tug of war over the large beautiful Bible.
Obscenities began to fly, niceness quickly melted away as the atmosphere turned to one of animalistic combat. When the woman couldn’t wrestle the Bible away she came around behind the counter and began to pummel my manager with punches. To her credit, my manager fought back and connected on a right hook that knocked the woman down. She pulled my manager on top of her and both women scrambled on the ground kicking and swearing, scratching and punching. The Bible lay in a crumbled heap several feet from the melee.
***
The woman who came to steal the Bible that day got a real lesson. She had failed to anticipate that the nice Christian lady working the register would be such a nasty brawler. As her underestimation began to dawn on her, she decided to ditch the Bible altogether and escape out the front door before something worse happened.
As I came behind the counter to try and break it up, the woman shoved me into a rack of Amazing Grace t-shirts and ran out the door.
My manager looked up at me, clearly furious. She probably knew not to ask at that moment if I were having fun.
“Don’t just stand there! F-ing Do something!!”
For my part, I didn’t know what to do. It all happened so fast. I just reacted in the moment.
I went to the door and screamed at the woman as she was getting into her car.
“Hey lady!!”
“Have a blessed day!!”