Xmas chintziness

I've been putting in a few shifts at the l.n.c.b. where I was working earlier this year. Last night I crawled for an hour over the bridge to get there and then another hour, even though it was 1 a.m., to get home.

There's always a favorite customer. This one was on the phone:

"Copies."

"Excuse me?"

"Copies."

"Copies of what?"

"Just copies."

"What copies? What do you want?"

"I want copies, man. Do you make copies?"

"Oh. No, we don't make copies here. You want to go to Kinkos or something."

"Well, do you sell Christmas cards?"

"Yes, we do." (Make faces at fellow employees, begin rotating index finger in small circles around ear.)

"And how much are they?"

"Well, they come in packages of maybe twelve or fifteen. They're different prices. I guess five or six dollars would be about average."

"No, that's too much. Do you sell single cards?"

"Sure, we sell single Christmas cards too."

"So I just want to make a copies of it."

(Light finally dawning.) "You want to buy one Christmas card and make copies of it for people."

"Yeah."

"Well, I guess you could do that. But we can't make the copies here."

"Okay, thanks, bye."