Actual text received today: “just had customer call from (nearby university). wanted to know if we had pumpkin spice car freshener. r u kidding me? might actually try to create it. imagine the profits.”

Hello, Autumn. You’ve been genuinely missed. Falling leaves, rain, and of course pumpkin-flavored anything. This is the season where every procrastinator in the Northern Hemisphere takes one look at their car and suddenly, the dread falls over them: Oh, shit! I need to fix [every last thing that they have been ignoring since temperatures started to rise in Spring] before Winter!” Wonderful! On the positive note, that means that sales are up, product is being moved and all of Management is content. What that means for the souls who actually live in the store is long hours and very testy customers who want everything right now and at the discount you gave the professional customer a second ago because “if I’m fixing my own car that makes me a professional mechanic, too.” Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that gem once or twice. The laughter is always worth it.

So the rushes start. Wiper blades that were ignored in the spring must be replaced. Those brakes must be swapped, regardless of the condition of what’s on the car, because “you never know what could happen once it snows.” What? The only thing that should be moving out the door quickly every fall is coolant, in anticipation of winter coming up. That’s smart, but has it been happening? Nope. Maybe it’s early. I hope it is.

In the middle of these mad rushes you have a couple of extra things to do. You have to put the “Caution, Wet Floor!” signage up since everyone is tracking in rainwater, mud and leaves into the store, and you better have the new guy on mop detail at least once an hour to clean up, just in case Suzy Q. Public comes into the store, slips on a oak leaf and busts her butt somewhere near the seat covers. Don’t want to think about lawsuits just before the holidays, do we? Oh, hell no! And of course we at the stores would be at fault, because the shiny tile floors that people have equated with a pleasant shopping experience become so slick when wet that if Tom Cruise tried to do his Risky Business floor slide with shoes on he’d power slide through the center stack of gloves and slam into the vending machine next to the door. (I probably shouldn’t have laughed at that thought, but what can I say?)

But not everything is bad. In fact, I’m thinking of having a little fun on Halloween. I’ll dress up as Leatherface, with a machete on my belt, and roam the aisles behind the counter, in the shadows. Or maybe I’ll play a zombie, running back and forth for parts orders with green drool oozing out of my mouth. If I wasn’t so damn tall I’d play Renfield from Dracula: Dead and Loving It, running around hissing “Yes, Master!” to every customer’s request. The fun you can have when you’re slightly warped in the head.