Word of the day:
Yar or yare (adj.): Agile at sea

2 p.m.: A bartering for treasure with a savivones (Spanish dance).

Q: What did the pirate get on his report card?
A: Seven C's.

Today’ s sign:
Free follicle finessing. Inquire within.

The sky is a disarming sheet of blue. Fair weather portends foul conduct among swarthy and unscrupulous sea dogs, but landlubbers appear immune to meteorological moodiness.

Overheard:
“I’m pretty sure if I filled up a hobo bag full of lard I could ride the rails and live a very happy life.”

Today’ s sign:
Things that end in “-oon” :
-bassoon
-doubloon
-harpoon
-spittoon
-tycoon
-raccoon
-prune

“Raccoon is the new mole.”
— customer

Visitors:
A woman carrying an onion balanced on a pile of books.
A guy with a leopard-fur-print, zippered purse and a furry stomach left a bag of pastries in the store. I ran next door to Paxton Gate, where I figured he would be, and delivered them.
A man with a cupcake pin on his hat. He was taking his friend’s son around the Mission trying to sell silkscreened patches from a wooden suitcase. He told us about his friend who makes “Tadjacko,” which is Monterey Jack cheese with tobacco in it.

Overheard:
“Before you ate your burger this morning, what did you say to yourself, you know, your little prayer?”
“I don't know, I just wanted to take a moment to be with my burger.”

The girl I love told me about this place tucked away in the city; she can see beauty no one else can.

Q: How much does a pirate’s earring cost?
A: A buccaneer.

The Tofu Rap
By K.J. Inc., All Rights Reserved

Tofu! If you look a the tofu on the table
you can dance to the tofu with the rhythm of the wobble.
Tofu!
If you want to lose some weight
this stuff really is great
because it’s only 30 cents for every five pounds.
Tofu!
For example look at me, I’m as happy as can be,
I eat tofu every day
and I live the healthy way.
Tofu!
If you don't like turkey,
you can eat tofurkey ’cause it tastes really great
and it wobbles on your plate.
Tofu!

The UPS guy got lard on his pants.

A man named Joel walked into the store after a mopping and asked if he could throw the mops back into the bin. On his previous visits, he said, “the timing was never right.” Then he grinned. “Or maybe it was...”

A man in the fish theater asked if I had ever seen a saber-toothed salmon. I had not.

Today’s sign:
Suffer sparse whiskers no more! New shipment of Splendiferous Folic Aid just in!
A young man wandered into the store and paused for a moment, dazed by the sun streaming through the doorway. He looked about distractedly, turned, and rushed out of the store. He consulted the sign outside, reentered the store, and asked, “Where is the Splediferous Folic Aid?”, pointing to a sparse patch of hair growth on his upper lip. “ My moustache rides high,” he said.

Q: Why can’t your nose be 12 inches long?
A: Because then it would be a foot.

I live in Birmingham, Alabama. I heard about this store from a guy (writer) in the back of a minivan in the city of Fredericksburg, Texas. He said, “Yes, it is true.” Now we are here. Hooray!

Three guys came into the store shortly after noon and one went straight to the glass eye case and took out the glass eye book. He began to describe it to his friends. He said he had gone to Harvard with the author, Sasha, and that she had majored in bookbinding. One of his friends asked him what she was like. He paused, smiled sheepishly, and replied, “ She’s special.“

A group of golfers came in, dressed head to toe in plaid. They were good guests until they started mopping each other without permission and hitting stuffed golf balls around the store at other customers.

A small boy came in, walked directly to the counter, and placed a well-worn, twisted brown paper bag in front of us. He looked up at us. Then he picked up the antique sundial and set it down on the counter. Inside the bag was $41.23 in change, which he had been saving and storing in the appropriate paper rolls until he had saved enough to buy the sundial at the pirate store.

Two groups of first-graders who were studying oceans arrived on a treasure hunt of the store. There were moppings and mayhem, hints and admonishments. They told me these stories in exchange for buried treasure:
Story #1. My great-grandparents escaped the czar with my grandma in my great-grandmother’s tummy. She was born the day after they got off the boat.

Story #2. My aunt jumped out of an airplane. My dad’s mom also jumped out of an airplane and sprained her ankle.

Story #3. Once there was a boy with only a head. Every day he rolled to school and people teased him for having no body. He prayed to God to change him into a grape. The next day as he rolled to school, someone stepped on him and squished him. There’s a moral: Quit while you’re a head.

Story #4. I was playing with my sister and my mom made me go to sleep and I slept and woke up and ate breakfast and went to school and studied narwhals.

A pirate with a peg leg two inches too short came into the store for a crutch. He was also a teacher of a pilates class for pirates.

Dusting.
Windexing.
Bag-stamping.
Zippers.
Sidewalk construction.
Pondering the pros and cons of McGriddles and ventrilloquism.

A man came in, leaned his bicycle up against the front pew, and wandered around the store in his bike helmet. It was painted gold and feathers of all sizes and colors had been carefully glued in place on the top and sides.