Saturday, June 23, 2012
Adventures in Barnes & Noble
One of the main downsides to living in a ridiculously small town is that there are no - and I mean no - decent bookstores nearby. There's the slim selection at Walmart, a few Hallmark stores that also happen to sell books, and a tiny used book store that sells almost nothing but self-help books, none of which are closer than a half hour's drive. This means that when I do make a rare trip to civilization, skipping Barnes & Noble is absolutely out of the question.
Yesterday's trip was particularly eventful, and included some of the following occurrences:
1. I saw "The Complete Sherlock Holmes" in a leather-bound, gold-leaf hardcover on the display. I then found the same book (different publisher) downstairs for less than half the price. Epic win.
2. The "down" escalator wasn't escalating, just sitting their like a set of stairs. I walked up it, fulfilling a lifelong goal to walk up a down escalator.
3. As I paid for my books, the salesperson made the following comment: "I love coming here. It's kind of dangerous, though. Do you ever feel like you have a problem? Like, 'I should go to AA meetings, but for buying books?"
I wanted to hug her and proclaim joyfully that I wasn't the only one with this problem. There was a counter in the way and several people nearby, though, so I settled for nodding vigorously and discussing the various methods to store such a large amount of books.
Just more proof that books - and the places that hold them - are full of unexpected adventure.