We are fortunate to have Congressman Pappas representing us. I am simply making a point as a taxpayer that in many such circumstances the numbers don't add up especially… My experiences dictate my life views, not a bunch of 'statistics' gathered by folks with… I whole heartedly agree with you that you dont need statsistics … Hey, if they want to lower my property taxes with the cash they rake in for legal pot, I'm all… “Who is going to take care of Barbie in her elder years?” Barbie is eternally 19. “This book has nothing to do with basketball!” he said. It was filled with the lost Celtic world of jewelry, architecture and talismans. The impressive-looking oversized hardcover was a short-lived find. “This is what I’m looking for!” he exclaimed. He led the fast break further down the sale table and was delighted to find the book The Celtic World. These suggestions did nothing to take the nonplussed look off the customer’s face. Carr and felt smug pivoting to land on Larry Bird’s Drive. It took several booksellers several minutes to decipher the book in question as Edith Hamilton’s Mythology.Ī customer requested books on the Boston Celtics. The twisted title was actually noted in Publisher’s Weekly.Īn in-a-hurry father requested the title Eat It with Hamilton’s Biology, claiming his high school daughter needed it pronto. “Is this a trilogy?” was a common question. John Irving’s The World According to Garp was the first mass market-sized paperback to have different covers. “Manchester needs an all-night bookstore.” “Do you sell Q-Tips or have a laminating machine?” “What are Frost Heaves? Did someone get sick? “Is Richard Bachman Stephen King or is Stephen King Richard Bachman?” “You mean that’s all you have in here are books?” I was sorely tempted to tell him we only had the blue ones left. “Do you have any red collapsible snow shovels?” “I can’t find your bible section but do you have any books on professional wrestling?” “Should we get Uncle Edgar a book for his birthday,” she said. We called him every five days for three months before he came in to pick it up. “You mean Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus?”Ī customer ordered the book How To Stop Procrastinating. One harried Holiday shopper obviously on a mission from his wife, asked for “The book on the planets.” “What happened to the book on this table with a blue cover with a fish on it?” I set out to sail the seas of classic literature but brought a boogie board to work just in case. Yes, I too spun the Harlequin Romance spinner, sorted greeting cards and carried a bag full of inventory control cards when needed. Literature is a fine thing but it is only one thing in today’s bookstore. CDs and Jimi Hendrix black-light posters. Today’s bookseller must know his or her way around calendars, brass ornaments, Kenny G. Let me preface my remarks by saying I’ve yet to meet a bookseller who stands by the till quoting Shakespeare and Frost. I was thinking a whack upside the head with a boxed wooden puzzle but this column will have to do. Gump.Īt some point in the game I vowed revenge. I patrolled the aisles for three chain bookstores in the Manchester area over 15 years: the now-defunct Lauriat’s and Paperback Booksmith, and Barnes & Noble, known in some corners as Barney Noodles. Spotting a plastic employee name badge is license for invective but it is no license for shared stupidity. It has been lo, these many years since I bore the thousand insults of bookstore shoppers venturing my way.
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