Book Store Blues
As an avid reader, Barnes & Noble is one of my favorite places and usually I could wile away a whole evening there. The other night I was sorely disappointed in everything from the ambiance and clientele to the selection of books. What I encountered:
*The guy who waits until he’s passing right by you to snort and cough and make other disgusting, sick-sounding noises. I don’t know about you, but when I feel even an innocent sneeze coming on (perhaps a sun sneeze?) I try to hold it off until I’m reasonably far from other humans. I cover my mouth. The key here, would be my efforts to be inconspicuous.
*The family who bundles up in front of the door. It’s Massachusetts. In January. It’s cold. Let’s go ahead and block the whole door while we zip our coats, put on our hats and gloves, and make sure we’re all snuggly warm before we go back outside. Don’t worry if we’re blocking the whole exit, I’m sure no one else wants to leave. Especially people who were polite enough to get themselves together off to the side, out of the way of the crowd.
*A paltry selection. Not one copy of Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, though there were about ten different versions of Ulysses. They didn’t have James’ Wings of the Dove nor The Golden Bowl. Inexcusable. Out of a list of about 25 books I was interested in, they had only three. I had to defect to Borders (tacky!) to find 4 more of my selections. Amazon.com, here I come.
Current Reading: "The Angel of the Odd" by Edgar Allen Poe
*The guy who waits until he’s passing right by you to snort and cough and make other disgusting, sick-sounding noises. I don’t know about you, but when I feel even an innocent sneeze coming on (perhaps a sun sneeze?) I try to hold it off until I’m reasonably far from other humans. I cover my mouth. The key here, would be my efforts to be inconspicuous.
*The family who bundles up in front of the door. It’s Massachusetts. In January. It’s cold. Let’s go ahead and block the whole door while we zip our coats, put on our hats and gloves, and make sure we’re all snuggly warm before we go back outside. Don’t worry if we’re blocking the whole exit, I’m sure no one else wants to leave. Especially people who were polite enough to get themselves together off to the side, out of the way of the crowd.
*A paltry selection. Not one copy of Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, though there were about ten different versions of Ulysses. They didn’t have James’ Wings of the Dove nor The Golden Bowl. Inexcusable. Out of a list of about 25 books I was interested in, they had only three. I had to defect to Borders (tacky!) to find 4 more of my selections. Amazon.com, here I come.
Current Reading: "The Angel of the Odd" by Edgar Allen Poe