Our local Borders Book Seller is closing down. Sigh.
I liked it. It was located smack next to a craft store and I used the bookstore to reward my darling family for being good sports on days I needed a nice Hake Brush, Rose Madder, tweed yarn or whatever else came up during or preceding one of my projects.
The first thing I think of when a bookstore is closing, and yes, closing bookstores have sadly become frequent enough for me to have thoughts, is laying in a new supply of reference books for homeschooling and writing.
Yesterday, we pulled into a space in the shared parking lot. A cluster of people were coming and going as we entered. Inside, an even bigger cluster of people clogged the isles and display areas. The coffee shop had already closed down. Sales banners hung from the ceiling, 20 – 30 – 40 – 50 % off.
Mothers with babies in arms clamored around the toys and picture books. Women of that certain age formed a semi-circle around a table stocked with romance paperbacks. A few men in relaxed fit jeans and sweatshirts milled around a do-it-yourself area.
Seeing all of these vultures picking over the misfortune of a business’s lack of planning and change made me feel a bit cheap to be among them. Me? I am not a vulture and I’ve used this store many times and I bought things here at full cost. I bought The Dome here. I bought magazines here. I even ordered a special deck of tarot cards here. I am certainly not a vulture.
I circled the store in a state of agitation. How am I ever going to get to the tarot displays with all of these people blocking my path? I spiraled further out and away from where I wanted to be and complained. My son told me they moved the cards and I’d been in the wrong part of chaos since I made my first arc. The tarot cards were top shelf in the far corner at the back and only 20% off.
I started back toward the front. I saw some journals on the way in. “You already have empty books, Mom.”
“Yes, but these are $4.99, some even lower.”
I put one, then a second, this one a drawing journal into his arms. “Look, Clifford, you don’t want a magazine of some kind? They are 40% off. Come on! You have to buy something.”
The check out line snaked back and forth like people expected a free i-phone. “You go ahead and hold my place here, while I find those pens, I bought some a while back and maybe there are more.”
I found more small books to write in, Molskines, a flip top reporter style book that I have at home. But, I used those up!
“I went through check-out and didn’t have any way to pay for these.” My darling husband, Clifford reported with mounting frustration.
“What? We were still shopping, you weren’t supposed to actually go through, did you see the line you were waiting in?”
We regrouped and got back into the line, together this time. It was there, in the line, that we found those ink pens.
We checked out this time with my card that has to be hand entered one number at a time.
I never found reference books and I am not a vulture. I do hope they are open next week on the 28th.
We did gawk at a few people in line with toys, loads of toys, not a book or a journal or ink pen, just toys.
With my ink pens, empty books, drawing paper and time on my hands, I wonder what the rest of you are doing this week-end.
While you are here, drop over to the February Contest Page and submit a comment you could win a $20.00 eGift Card to spend at a bookstore and I don’t mind at all if all you buy are toys. Really. For all of you who like to fill empty journals, hop over to January’s Contest where over 100 people told us why the read.
Till next time, don’t touch anything sharp!