Samson got most of his profits from online orders, not from walk-ins. Sure, there were people who wandered in to his shop, and he liked that - browsers usually bought something - and there were people who came to his store specifically to pick something up that could not be sent through the mail. Either it was too expensive or too volatile. Usually both.
That meant that most of his customers had some semblance of privacy. It also meant that the store, as it was, had lots of downtime. Samson did most of his deliveries and administration in the morning and he did most of his magic at night. So, in the afternoon, when there were no customers?
Sometimes, he read. Sometimes, he crafted or prepared his magic. And sometimes, he watched terrible television in the bed room/back room.
He muted Riverdale when he heard the door open. In his jeans, a loose-hanging sweater and on bare-feet, he padded over his store. It was a controlled mess, his wares purposefully laid out so that everywhere you looked, there was something interesting to see.
And all throughout the store, there were tiny origami cranes, because Samson had had a few boring afternoons this week.
He lingered in the doorway, observing the new customer with shrewd eyes. Samson knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but he also knew that some people were more likely to shoplift than others. He smiled a crooked smile. "Good afternoon," he said, "lookin' for anything specific?"