A man enters a shop

Shopkeep: Afternoon, sir. Anything I can help you find?

Man: Nah. I'm just browsing. I'm thinkin' about buyin' one of those book safes.

Shopkeep: One of those what?

Man: One of those book safes. You know, where it looks like a book, but it's really hollowed out inside, and you can keep, like, cash or booze or a snake bite kit in it?

Shopkeep: Oh, uh, I don't think we have anything like that here.

Man: But this is a Container Store. I know I've seen 'em in other Container Stores.

Shopkeep: Oh, I'm sorry. This isn't a Container Store. It's a Stuff to Put in Your Container Store.

Man: What's that?

Shopkeep: Well, we realized that with the popularity of stores that sell nothing but containers, "Container Stores," if you will, we'd eventually see a need for stuff to put into those containers, and here we are.

Man: That doesn't make any sense. People buy containers to put stuff they already have into them. Why would someone buy a container if they didn't have anything to put in it?

Shopkeep: I repeat: Here we are. If no one needed us, why would we be here?

Man: That's pretty specious reasoning, buddy. What if I'm your first customer ever? How do I know anyone has ever bought a single thing from you at this store?

Shopkeep: Well, it just so happens that you are not our first customer, dillweed. You are, in fact our ninth customer just today.

Man: It's nearly 6 pm. You're about to close.

Shopkeep: It's the off season.

Man: I see. Do you have an on season?

Shopkeep: Of course we do, Mr Smarty von Douchebag. Near the end of the summer.

Man: And why is that? What do you sell, anyway?

Shopkeep: I already told you. Things to put in your containers.

Man: Yeah, but what does that mean?

Shopkeep: We sell trinkets to fill bottom desk drawers, fake hand-made stuff you can say you got on vacation in Cabo, old rec. soccer trophies, worn-looking copies of classic novels you won't bother reading, out-of-style shirts and pants for people with too much room in their closets. You know, crap like that.

Man: I'm sorry. I'm still a little confused. Why in the name of Larry's left testicle would any non-retarded person want to buy stuff that he plans to just throw into the bottom of an unused desk drawer or stuff onto a bookshelf?

Shopkeep: We find that our clients tend to be nerds, Evangelical Christians, college professors, frequent Fark commenters, philosophy majors... you know, mostly people with generally no life of their own. Losers. We also sell stories to go along with everything, so, for example, if someone were to say to you, "Hey, where'd you get this fancy sling shot?" you can respond, "Oh, there's a great story behind that. I was hitchhiking in central Spain. A little blind boy offered to sell it to me for a pack of Juicy Fruit and a hug. I was moved by his plight, but I didn't want to touch him, though; he had lice the size of bigger lice. I threw the gum at him and took the sling shot. And do you know who that boy grew up to be? Aleister Crowley." OK, so maybe it's not a great story, but what do you want from us? We're owned by Carrot Top.

Man: Um, ok... Uh, I'll take three novels and that conch shell with googly eyes glued to it.

Shopkeep: Excellent choice, sir, but if you buy one more novel, we'll throw in a league championship bowling trophy absolutely free.

Man: Oh, why not? I'm not driving.

Shopkeep: There you are. Have a nice day. Tell your friends.

Man: Ha! Don't worry. They're definitely gonna hear about this place.

Shopkeep: And try our sister chain, Dead Things to Put at the Bottom of Your Pool, Inc.

Man: That's a stupid idea. You must think people will buy anything.

*And on an entirely unrelated note, this is the 400th post on The House of Vaughan. Pretty sweet, huh? You're jealous...*