BOOKS & ATONEMENT
A man came into the store recently and asked to speak to our General Manager. These requests usually involve complaining (and complaining bitterly) about something or someone OR asking for a donation for a volunteer group or school. Or it's just a crazy person. Occasionally two or more of these types overlap.
On this occasion, the man took our GM aside and informed him that he was an addict and was in the midst of his recovery process. He had come in to apologize for his past trangressions. He had, apparently, over the years, stolen a LOT of stuff from our store. He apologized for that. Our GM was a bit taken aback. What does one say in a situation like that? Then the guy said he was there to make things right. He didn't know the exact dollar value of the items he had stolen, but he estimated it at around $500. He wrote out a check and handed it over, apologized again and left, easin' on down the road to recovery. Next stop: Step Ten.
That was interesting. I don't know if he identified the 12-step program he was going through, but he did say that the bulk of the books he had stolen were on the subject of gambling.
That doesn't happen every day.
***
A guy who looked just like Tommy Chong was in the store the other day. He was transfixed by a Halloween snowglobe. You couldn't have pried that thing out of his hands with a crowbar. He stared and stared at that snowglobe for at least three minutes. I think that righteous 'globe was blowin' his mind, man.
***
A middle-aged woman, very blonde, with expensive jewelry hanging off her, came up to the information desk.
"Hi. I need a book by Hitler for my book group."
(Don't think I've heard that before.)
"It's called ... um ... something like Mellenkampf?"
I wasn't helping this customer, but I would have been sorely tempted to say something sarcastic.
"Oh, yes. Personally, I preferred him when he was John "Cougar" Hitler. Very popular in Indiana. Right this way, madam."
***
Speaking of title mangling, a new bookseller at the store told me about his old store where he was forever getting this:
"Yeah, uh, I, uh, need a 'book' I gotta read for school - How to Kill a Mockingbird."
He said one of his co-workers got so tired of it that he started taking customers to the Hunting section. Then the Nature section. Then the True Crime section.
"Nope. Doesn't look like we carry that. Sorry!"
***
I keep calling a new book Twelve Angry Orphans (it's Twelve Mighty Orphans, but angry orphans would make a WAY better story), and I misread something the other day as Hip Hop Swastika (that wasn't the title, but it would make a great band name). I also misread the attribution of a blurb on the back of a Harold Robbins book as The Bosom Globe (I hear that's where Russ Meyer got his start as a copy boy).
***
There is a Romance endcap right now with about ten titles on it. One of the books is this:
I don't know if it is supposed to be there or not, but it's certainly a head-turner. How many women are going to pick up a book with a title like that? Perhaps it belongs in the men's erotica section (i.e. "Porn") and not the women's erotica section (i.e. "Romance").
I really wish we had a section just called "Porn."
"No, ma'am, I'm sorry, I haven't seen your husband. Have you checked over in Porn?"
***
Speaking of head-turning, check out the new book My Last Supper: 50 Great Chefs and Their Final Meals. It's a coffee table book filled with full-page photos of famous chefs. Find the page with Anthony Bourdain. Naked. Holding a strategically-placed giant bone. The hand not holding the bone has a cigarette dangling from it. Go find it. It's worth it. It's right up there with that Annie Leibovitz photo of Clint Eastwood all tied up. Yes, it is.
***
There's that whole new genre of publishing wherein an author takes one seemingly trivial topic and explores its historical, social and cultural impact on the world. I think it all started with Kurlansky's The History of Salt. We've had oxygen, hair, plumbing, gin, impotence, tears, skin, the potato, etc. My new favorite is this one, a searing investigation of the lowly toothpick:
The Toothpick: Technology and Culture. FINALLY! I should have expanded my own musings on the topic a few years ago when I wrote Notes From a Floss Girl. That Knopf money would have come in handy.
***
As I was typing this, I heard what sounded like a faint knock on my front door. It's hard to hear if anyone is knocking on my front door as there's actually another set of doors past the door to the street. And nobody ever knocks on my door, except nice young men in white shirts and ties. I ignored it. Then I heard a loud pounding on my kitchen door. I looked out the window and it was an older man in a sports coat. I opened the door.
"Yes?"
"Is this the bookstore?"
"Oh, uh, no"
"I got your address off the internet. I happened to be in town and I was interested in your Texana collection." (I work at a large chain bookstore, but I also sell used and antiquarian books online.)
"Uh, no. This is my home...."
"You don't have books?"
"Well, I sell books online, but I don't have an open shop any longer."
"Where are your books?"
"Oh, I have them in a few different places."
"They're not in there?" he asked, pointing in the general direction of my kitchen table which is framed by four stackable bookcases filled with books.
"No, no," I lied. "There're mostly in storage."
"You don't have any I could come in and look at?"
Wow. Persistent. A high-pressure customer. A pushy guy who wants to buy something. How I yearned for those nice Jehovah's Witnesses.
"Sorry."
He seemed put out. I really thought he was going to muscle his way in so he could take a look at my cat-hair-covered volumes of whatever lesser Texana titles I have left.
"Oh, the Carl Hertzog bibliography? Right this way. You're gonna have to step over that laundry basket. Sorry about the unmade bed - I really meant to get to that."
I've had my home address listed as my business address for almost a year now - since I closed my PO box. This is the first time someone has shown up thinking I had wares to show.
Damned books!
On this occasion, the man took our GM aside and informed him that he was an addict and was in the midst of his recovery process. He had come in to apologize for his past trangressions. He had, apparently, over the years, stolen a LOT of stuff from our store. He apologized for that. Our GM was a bit taken aback. What does one say in a situation like that? Then the guy said he was there to make things right. He didn't know the exact dollar value of the items he had stolen, but he estimated it at around $500. He wrote out a check and handed it over, apologized again and left, easin' on down the road to recovery. Next stop: Step Ten.
That was interesting. I don't know if he identified the 12-step program he was going through, but he did say that the bulk of the books he had stolen were on the subject of gambling.
That doesn't happen every day.
***
A guy who looked just like Tommy Chong was in the store the other day. He was transfixed by a Halloween snowglobe. You couldn't have pried that thing out of his hands with a crowbar. He stared and stared at that snowglobe for at least three minutes. I think that righteous 'globe was blowin' his mind, man.
***
A middle-aged woman, very blonde, with expensive jewelry hanging off her, came up to the information desk.
"Hi. I need a book by Hitler for my book group."
(Don't think I've heard that before.)
"It's called ... um ... something like Mellenkampf?"
I wasn't helping this customer, but I would have been sorely tempted to say something sarcastic.
"Oh, yes. Personally, I preferred him when he was John "Cougar" Hitler. Very popular in Indiana. Right this way, madam."
***
Speaking of title mangling, a new bookseller at the store told me about his old store where he was forever getting this:
"Yeah, uh, I, uh, need a 'book' I gotta read for school - How to Kill a Mockingbird."
He said one of his co-workers got so tired of it that he started taking customers to the Hunting section. Then the Nature section. Then the True Crime section.
"Nope. Doesn't look like we carry that. Sorry!"
***
I keep calling a new book Twelve Angry Orphans (it's Twelve Mighty Orphans, but angry orphans would make a WAY better story), and I misread something the other day as Hip Hop Swastika (that wasn't the title, but it would make a great band name). I also misread the attribution of a blurb on the back of a Harold Robbins book as The Bosom Globe (I hear that's where Russ Meyer got his start as a copy boy).
***
There is a Romance endcap right now with about ten titles on it. One of the books is this:
I don't know if it is supposed to be there or not, but it's certainly a head-turner. How many women are going to pick up a book with a title like that? Perhaps it belongs in the men's erotica section (i.e. "Porn") and not the women's erotica section (i.e. "Romance").
I really wish we had a section just called "Porn."
"No, ma'am, I'm sorry, I haven't seen your husband. Have you checked over in Porn?"
***
Speaking of head-turning, check out the new book My Last Supper: 50 Great Chefs and Their Final Meals. It's a coffee table book filled with full-page photos of famous chefs. Find the page with Anthony Bourdain. Naked. Holding a strategically-placed giant bone. The hand not holding the bone has a cigarette dangling from it. Go find it. It's worth it. It's right up there with that Annie Leibovitz photo of Clint Eastwood all tied up. Yes, it is.
***
There's that whole new genre of publishing wherein an author takes one seemingly trivial topic and explores its historical, social and cultural impact on the world. I think it all started with Kurlansky's The History of Salt. We've had oxygen, hair, plumbing, gin, impotence, tears, skin, the potato, etc. My new favorite is this one, a searing investigation of the lowly toothpick:
The Toothpick: Technology and Culture. FINALLY! I should have expanded my own musings on the topic a few years ago when I wrote Notes From a Floss Girl. That Knopf money would have come in handy.
***
As I was typing this, I heard what sounded like a faint knock on my front door. It's hard to hear if anyone is knocking on my front door as there's actually another set of doors past the door to the street. And nobody ever knocks on my door, except nice young men in white shirts and ties. I ignored it. Then I heard a loud pounding on my kitchen door. I looked out the window and it was an older man in a sports coat. I opened the door.
"Yes?"
"Is this the bookstore?"
"Oh, uh, no"
"I got your address off the internet. I happened to be in town and I was interested in your Texana collection." (I work at a large chain bookstore, but I also sell used and antiquarian books online.)
"Uh, no. This is my home...."
"You don't have books?"
"Well, I sell books online, but I don't have an open shop any longer."
"Where are your books?"
"Oh, I have them in a few different places."
"They're not in there?" he asked, pointing in the general direction of my kitchen table which is framed by four stackable bookcases filled with books.
"No, no," I lied. "There're mostly in storage."
"You don't have any I could come in and look at?"
Wow. Persistent. A high-pressure customer. A pushy guy who wants to buy something. How I yearned for those nice Jehovah's Witnesses.
"Sorry."
He seemed put out. I really thought he was going to muscle his way in so he could take a look at my cat-hair-covered volumes of whatever lesser Texana titles I have left.
"Oh, the Carl Hertzog bibliography? Right this way. You're gonna have to step over that laundry basket. Sorry about the unmade bed - I really meant to get to that."
I've had my home address listed as my business address for almost a year now - since I closed my PO box. This is the first time someone has shown up thinking I had wares to show.
Damned books!