Brief floppy disk conundrum

Sorry for the lack of information here lately. It's Canadian Winter Hibernation Time. Or, CWHT. And I work in a store that sells movies, so I stay inside where it's warm and watch movies, often while drinking beer, which rules!

A man walks in to the store, very friendly, looks at me as I acknowledge, and asks "Do you have floppy disks?"
I pause.
hmmm, I think to myself... floppy disks... disks spelled with a K instead of a C... those never got bigger than 1.4 megabytes unless I'm mistaking.... weird.
So I say to him "I don't think they make those any more" which seems like a good idea, especially since a year ago I bought a 2 gigabyte (that's like, 2500 floppy disks) USB memory stick for less than $40 and I still use it now with my ultra-modern computation machine.
When he left, I was sort of sad because I don't think he quite got the gist of the whole, that's totally obsolete, bit, and he looked like he was heading to the nearest Macintosh dealer to buy floppy disks! (FAIL... sorry dude, this is a music store)

Foothought:
OMG! If I had a stockpile of floppy disks (which I did several years ago) I could have made this guy pay like $1.00 per disk!! So evil I know, but I do admit that last week I literally sold a Commodore 64 for $15! For serious!

Winter-blah Wednesday

I always thought it was weird how, when Judas Priest or Iron Maiden CDs come in to this store, it's not just one or two, but an entire collection. Lately entire remastered collections with which if you put them all together, the spines form an image, usually of a mascot (Eddie) face, or an awesome heavy metal flame of death.

I would like to thank CBCs The Hour with George Stroumboulopoulos for helping increase our sales of Michael Buble CDs. This happened after Michael told the exciting story of how he went to a party at Leonardo Dicaprios' house, got really drunk, puked in his pool & backyard, hopped the fence and stumbled home for two hours. Michael has allegedly not spoken to Leo since the said incident. (this actually happens to a lot of people, only not at Leonardo Dicaprios' house)

As you may be guessing, the winter blahs are riding my ass here at the store.
As I type, I watch my car being buried in wet & heavy snow. There has not been anyone in here in nearly an hour.
I'm thinking about playing our entire local-indie selection, which consists of at least 40 albums, and then planning my Sunday at the anonymous anti-Scientology protests.

If nothing else is posted here by 11:59pm Wednesday, then it only got excessively more boring around here.