So we have a customer that I'll call Identity-Crisis (IC) because of his pathological lying. On any given day, he'll tell you about his time in the Russian Army, his time in the West German Army, his time working in a West German interment camp, the fact that he was 'asked to come here' by the US Government, that they 'watch him constantly' and read his email, etc. He also, since discovering that I have a fetish for intelligent, well-educated men, likes to go on and on about his extensive education, his many Master's Degrees, all the while his hair is unwashed, his clothes are old and torn, and he clearly earns next to nothing with his awesome spectral education.
He is what Pink and I refer to as a 'Harmless Crazypants.'
I generally take everything he says with a small Siberian salt mine.
Identity-Crisis likes to play, you guessed it, war-reinactment tactical games. He considers himself a very good painter, and for his part, he is. For the last few years, we have allowed him to put his miniatures in our glass display cabinet to show off his skill, but lately we've needed that space for actual products that can be sold and therefore benefit the store. Because of that, we've had to ask our painters to remove their minis from the cabinet, and there's been varying degrees of understanding and anger depending on the person.
This apparently just ruined I.C.'s day. Granted, it was already on a rough start. He wore an eyepatch to the store, and because he is a well-known pathological liar, we all sort of shrugged and went about our business as though nothing was wrong. Generally, if he is seeking attention, most of us just ignore him. The Lamb decided to make a comment about it, asking if 'he was being a pirate' that day, which pissed in I.C.'s Cheerios. Now granted, it was a shitty thing to say, and as soon as he realized he'd upset I.C. the Lamb was immediately apologetic.
It should have ended there. "Oh damn, I'm sorry, I didn't realize," should have ended it.
But no. I.C. was butthurt and feeling righteous geek-rage. I entered into this little bitchfit by walking into our video room and finding him ripping all of his terrain out of the wooden cabinet we still let them use. I asked what was wrong, to which he replied in his pseudo-Russian accent, "Fuck this place, I'm not coming here anymore." I was sort of surprised, since he was lashing out at me for asking him what was wrong, and so instead of getting in his face without knowing the situation, I just left him alone and watched him flounce out of the store in typical butthurt-geek fashion.
We started placing bets on how long it would be before he regretted the flounce and came back. I was betting it would be at least a week, maybe more. Lulz was confident that he'd return sooner. Lulz ended up winning. This evening he was at the store, and as I walked in, I called a greeting to them. Generally everyone is happy to see me, but I.C. completely ignored my existance, which is fine, my opening serve was already dealt. For the rest of the evening he skulked around the store, ignoring the employees with all his fuzzy little might, meanwhile we were nothing but kind.
Maybe he realized that our store is the only one that will tolerate his brand of B.S.?