I stride past the kitten-themed sunglasses and the fart-scented soaps and the caffeinated gay peanut butter and the ukulele keychains and the zombie unicorn masks, making my way to the back of Faces’ first floor. Until a month ago, it was full of greeting cards. Now it’s not-full of cafe customers. I am alone and outnumbered by many fluorescent lights. But “Bootylicious” is playing on the stereo, and there’s free wifi, and the coffee’s fine. I pay eight dollars for a sandwich, because I’m already quite confident I will never return after writing these paragraphs, so I figure it’s the least I can do for the local economy. I pick a table in the corner while long-time Faces employee Mike patrols the toy section for shoplifters, or maybe he’s just bored, I don’t know. A bootylicious girl walks in and leans over the counter to talk to the cashier and the manager, who are standing around with not much to do. Is she a customer? No, an employee.

“Dancing Queen” is on the stereo. The bacon in my sandwich is so hard, I momentarily think I’ve bitten into a toothpick. A young man wanders in with a group of friends. They giggle at the drink case like it’s a hilarious display of wacky t-shirt designs. “I’m going back to the store part of the store,” he says. An older man skirts the edge of the cafe area suspiciously, apparently confounded by the open expanse of floor dotted with metal chairs and metal tables and Tom Pappalardos. “Get Into The Groove” comes on the stereo. At this point, I’m only mentioning the songs being played because there’s not much else to observe. A lady with a puffy vest looks at a WICKED HUGE BRUINS FAN t-shirt. A girl looking at, Jesus, I don’t know, dildos shaped like Sriracha bottles or something? Angry Bird Star Wars rub-on tattoos? What the fuck does this place sell? Anyway, she’s perusing nearby products and giving me sidelong glances. Not a “Hey, handsome man” look. It’s more of a “Oh, look at the sad panda at the zoo” type of look. A Faces employee restocks a t-shirt. As in, a single t-shirt. He takes his time. Billie Holiday sings a song.

A woman crosses the threshold! She approaches the counter! “Hello!” says the counter worker. “Hello!” says the manager. I’m tempted to welcome her, too. “Please! Come in! Sit with me! Let me buy you a toothpick sandwich!” She asks them where the stairway is and leaves when she gets her answer. But then a couple comes in and put their stuff on a table! Here we go! Finally! Customers! FIRE UP THE MICROWAVE, BOYS! IT’S ABOUT TO GET—oh wait, they’re just using the bathroom in the back corner of the store. “The Rainbow” by Ween comes on. It’s the best part of this experience so far. Mike walks over and gets a cup of coffee. Am I in the Faces break room? Is that what’s happening? Do I work here now? Should I restock a t-shirt?