at home in the neighborhood: the copy shop

Because I live only one block away from this corner copy shop, I pass by nearly every day. I have only been in twice, however: once to see about card stock in a certain shade of blue, and once a week ago to make copies (on card stock) for a nursery activity. But my limited business with this little establishment hasn't kept its proprietors, Frances and Maryann, from getting to know Garrett and I. For the last 12 months they've watched us pass by, inside from the window, and outside on the sidewalk during those moments they've stepped out for a cigarette.

They are never short on comments about how big Garrett is growing. For example, towards the end of last winter, when I was still primarily carrying Garrett around in my infant carrier, one of them suggested to me that he was getting too big to be held like that, that my back must be killing me. When, just a day or two later, I walked by again, this time with Garrett in the stroller, she gave me a nod and said, "That's better."

During my visit there last week to make my nursery copies, Frances was the one to help me at the front desk. When she saw that I had Garrett with me, she didn't hesitate to holler back to her partner.

"Maryann! Look who's come in! It's the little blond baby! Come up here!" she said before turning her attentions back to Garrett and I. "I remember when he was just born," she said to me. "Don't you remember, Maryann, when Garrett here was just born? He was so tiny."

Maryann agreed and they both leaned over the counter to continue their cooing. In between my glances down to Garrett to reassure the stranger-shy portion of his budding personality that it was okay, they were nice ladies, and Mama was right here, I fished around in my wallet for $3 to pay for my copies. Frances noticed my digging.

"Oh, dear, don't let me take all your change," she said. "We see you pass by often enough. You can just pay later."

I assured her that I had the funds, and intended to pay now, but she wasn't entirely convinced that by charging me now for the copies, she wasn't inhibiting my ability to buy milk for my child.

I paid, and she accepted my payment, but as we bid our drawn-out goodbyes and assurances that we'd be passing by again very soon, I couldn't help but think about how awesome the whole mom-and-pop store/neighbor client relationship really is. It's not everywhere that business is conducted in quite the same way. And it made me happy to know that I live somewhere where it does.