Do you ever go into a bookstore and revel in the sight of hundreds upon thousands of books sitting on the shelves, just waiting to be read? And do you look at as many books as you can and read as many reviews as possible? Do you delight in finding new authors and discovering new stories?
I can almost see all my fellow bookworms nodding their head sagely as they read this, but for the rest of you: Jeez, you guys don’t know what you’re missing…
To the great misfortune of my friends and relatives, if, on the rare occasion that I care to venture out of the house, we are out shopping or even just walking around town, every bookstore we happen upon must be explored, every book touched and felt, even though my wallet is so starved, it wheezes out a puff of dust if I so much as prod it with the tip of a finger. Not that it matters, for though I am a great lover of bookstores and even more so, books, I do not have the urge to buy every book I see (unless it’s on discount, in which case: Goodbye kidney, hello book!)
When selecting a book, however, a decision cannot be made in just a few minutes. It is vital that I first read the synopsis at the back, after which I have to skim through a few pages to see the style of writing, and if I like it, I must then flip through the pages to check that the book has not been harmed in any way during transport and handling; and I have to do this for every single book under the fiction section (for no reason other than it is my favourite genre) in case I miss a really good one. Finally, the only thing left to do is to spread the pile of books now teetering in my hands and carefully select the one I would like to take home (You, my darling, are coming with me..)
As you might expect, this takes quite a bit of time, to say the least, which is why, when, out of the blue, the person I am with offers to buy me a book while we are at a bookstore, I am hit, first, with a feeling of pleasurable surprise coupled with a strong, barely suppressed urge to dance around the shelves, and then, with a slowly building feeling of dread. For though I enjoy selecting my novel with time and care, not everyone has the same patience when they are the ones who have to wait for me as I make my decision. Thus, I am more likely to be ushered out of the store without a book by the very same person who, not moments ago (alright, maybe an hour or two ago..), had so pleasantly offered to buy me a bit of happiness, than to walk out of that shop with a novel clutched tight in my fingers.
In this vein, I now prefer to go book-browsing alone, without someone hanging over my shoulder, as they silently at first, and then not so silently, urge me to get the heck out of the store so we can move on to what we actually came to shop for – something I will have long forgotten as I stand there, gazing with contentment upon the bound volumes.
However, it being a bookstore and not a library, one cannot expect the person who runs the place to be happy about someone who comes in once too often, stays longer than anyone else, and then leaves without buying so much as a pencil.
In fact, I once spent such an extended period of time in one store just browsing, the owner actually started following me around in what she must have thought was a discreet manner, but honestly -when you find the same person in every aisle you visit five minutes after entering it yourself, you’re bound to notice something amiss.
Just as I was thinking of leaving the store before she accosted me.. well, she did. Probably unable to take it any longer, she came up to me and asked if she could assist me with anything. Never before have I dreaded help as much as I did in that moment. I could not very well say, 'Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ve just been taking up space for the past two hours. I don’t actually intend to buy anything at all.'
The poor woman would have burst into tears! Or, she would have kicked me out. The second being more probable.
So I did the next best thing I could think of: I asked her for a book she couldn’t possibly have; mostly because it was not in circulation anymore. 'Do you have ‘The Circus Doctor’ by J Y Henderson?' I enquired, and waited smugly for her answer.
'No, we don’t..' she replied, after some thought.
Hah! Knew it! Now I can leave and-
'..But I could order it for you. I’d have it in three days.'
Great. Leave it to me to completely forget we live in the age of online shopping.
'No, that’s alright,' I said, frantically trying to think up a plan B. 'I was only in town for a few days. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.'
Entirely untrue - I lived in that town. Which she did not know.
Her mouth made an 'O' as she nodded her head. 'Well, I'm sorry we couldn't help you. Maybe next time, we'll have your book on our shelves.'
Right. Next time.
I smiled at her and exited the store, hoping I didn't look too relieved. As an unfortunate consequence of my lie, however, I certainly would not be able to enter that bookstore again.. was what I though in that moment. Two months, later, the bell dinged joyfully as I pushed open the door, the glass cool and inviting against my fingertips.
Well obviously I was going to go back! How desperate was I already, that I imagined the door was welcoming me?!
In any case, I figured I was safe. Two months should have been long enough to dismiss from her mind a one-time encounter with any customer.
But it was not to be. The woman looked at me above her spectacles as I entered, frowned slightly, and then brightened. 'Oh, so you're back in town, are you?' she asked me as the smile fell from my face and my expression turned to one of dismay. 'Allow me to order that book for you this time!'
What was with this woman and her crazy memory!? Couldn’t she forget like normal people did?
Panicked now, my mind racing to think of something suitable to get myself out of this unenviable situation, I felt my mouth open and speak for itself.
'Oh.. is this a bookstore?' I asked, looking as confused as I could. 'I'm sorry, I thought it was a coffee shop. Pardon me..' And I beat a hasty retreat.
Alright, so that was a dumb excuse. In fact, it ranked up there among some of my less intelligent ones to date. But I can't very well be brilliant all the time now, can I?