This window didn’t freak me out at all when I walked by it. I was like, that is totally normal and makes sense
I know no one wants to read a book about working in a bookstore (Right? Or am I wrong?) but let me tell you, I am getting some s-t-o-r-i-e-s working at one even just a few measly hours a week.
People always ask me if I get book ideas working in advertising and I always say, “No, because those people are all boring and the same.” To be fair, outside of the office I am sure it is entirely possible they are distinct human beings. But being in a corporate environment forces people into a scary uniformity, even in the wacky (it is not wacky) world of advertising. And those of us who want to break out constantly find ourselves whispering to each other behind corners.
But the customers in bookstores are all special in (mostly) really good ways. The interesting stuff comes in observation much of the time, rather than interaction, though the interactions are often quite lovely and charming and life-affirming, and I bet you think I am exaggerating but I assure you I am not.
I only get bits and pieces because I am usually staring at a shelf of books trying to figure out what needs to be moved where, but it’s still enough to satisfy me.
I love seeing people on a buying binge. No one feels guilty buying something in a bookstore. Feeding your mind is not an indulgence.
I like it when I see people squatting on the floor, possessed by a book.
I also like when couples getting to know each other come in to the store, and they walk around picking up books and asking each other if they’ve read it yet.
Three former college roommates, casually shopping after brunch, engaged in low whispers near the greeting cards, until one voice rises, and the other two break out in laughter.
Harried mothers with children running around the store seem to be so grateful they can purchase something entertaining and educational.
The two girls desperately making out in front of Fiction, M-P. They cannot bear to part. Inappropriate, but still a moment that sticks in the brain.
There are husbands so starved for attention from their wives, busy and annoying on their cellphones, that they lamely flirt with the girl behind the counter who is probably their daughter’s age.
When people nod along to whatever is playing on the stereo. That I like a lot.
At night, after a few hours of shelving that day, when my eyes are closed and I haven’t yet fallen asleep, sometimes I see bookshelves in my head and I start moving books around in them.
