[Aziraphale giggles like a fiend all through Crowley's protest and subsequent begrudging admittance of the truth, hard enough that he has to set aside the cup he's using to rinse Crowley's hair or risk sloshing water all over.]

First of all, the ones with pamphlets aren't customers. You know that type never buys a damn thing from anyone. Secondly --

[He hems Crowley in a bit more with his legs, squeezing enticingly.]

I think having a gorgeous specimen such as yourself hanging about the shop and calling me pet names is enough to drive them off.