Take email #1 for instance.  The vast majority of these emails are from self-published authors looking to get their wares in the store.  They do not tend to be wise in the ways of publicity nor, for writers, do they seem particularly adept at The Pitch.  I wager these are the people that keep writing conferences in business.  I’ve blotted out his name, but if you’re feeling the need, you can always check Amazon for his title.  It sounds amazing.

I'm sold!

Lucky Emailer #2 apparently doesn’t use email all that often.  Or perhaps he doesn’t spend an awful lot of time online.  In any regard, his request is one of the more amusing I have received, and I still don’t know how to answer without sounding like the sarcastic ass I am.

You...but...I mean...

It’s important to note that you have to hit the “Contact Us” button in order to send us a message, and in doing, you are routed to a screen that offers to email your message.

So, keep the emails coming!

Customer to me: “Where are your books about things you can learn?”

In the middle of what must have been a question about a certain book that the customer was looking for, he paused to ask the most absurd question ever asked of a bookseller in the history of galactic time: “Do you read books?”

Overheard: “Have you ever read that book Art of War by Sunt Zoo?  C’mere and sit on my lap.” Um.  Ew.

This one ranks up there with “dog toys”:  “Do you have any black mascara?”

Reason #4,785 why cell phone conversations are better in public:  “You just haven’t been the same since you got out of prison.”

The least useful thing to say after asking if a bookstore is hiring:  “That way I can read all the books while I work.” Refer to my post on getting a job at a bookstore for further tips and hints and things not to say.

“Will you take less than the marked price?”  Yes sir, I will take it.  But you don’t get the book.

From a customer standing in the fiction section: “Do you have any novels?”

* * * * * *

Most of you have probably seen this already, but I’ve started a series of Xtranormal videos called The Bookstore. I’m adding to the characters as I go, and using as much material from this blog as I possibly can. Here’s the first video, in which Eddie works his way through an all-too-familiar face who doesn’t seem to have the slightest idea as to what she wants.

We have a rotating display of reading glasses that is constantly spun and destroyed, and somehow frequently shopped.  A gentleman walks in, spins it–as you do–a few meaningless times, then begins to browse.  After a moment, he looks at me, points at the glasses (because I surely had no idea what he had been looking at all this time) and says, “Do these lens fit other frames?

“I really have no idea,” I reply.  “You’d have to have a pair of frames that match exactly to the frames there.”

“Well, can I take the lens from one of these and see if they fit in my frames?”

“It’s up to you if you want to buy the frames and–”

I don’t even get to finish the sentence.  Why not?  We all knew where this was going, didn’t we?

“No, I just want you to let me take the lens and see if they fit.”

“Um. No,” I can hear the angels of my mind scream in terror.  There’s nothing saintly going on up there at this point.  “It makes absolutely no financial sense for me to let you destroy a pair of reading glasses so that you can take them to wherever your other frames are in order to discover that they don’t fit.  Right?”

He shrugs, walks out, and leaves me to scramble to Facebook for another round of therapy.

* * * * * *

Being a bookseller is about more than just selling books.  You also have to be rather adept in time management and have internet savvy.  It isn’t easy to devote the time and energy required to Bieberize yourself.

Zach Bieber

Or to Snooki yourself (which sounds dreadful):

Ew. I feel dirty.

Bookselling is difficult work.  Don’t short change those who do it well.

* * * * * * *

Two guys were in the store recently, standing around the magazines–which are sidled to the registers for the record.  Both guys are of the “Fun Dip” orientation, if you follow, and are engaged in a heated dispute about Kim Kardashian’s rotund booty.  I don’t know what they said.  I really don’t.  I tuned them out.  I probably would have completely missed their exit if one of the guys had not walked over to the counter, staring at his phone, and initiated the following conversation:

“If I were to ask you a question, would you give me an honest answer?”

“I guess that would depend on the question.” Please don’t ask me if I like Fun Dip.

He flips his phone over, giving me full view of a picture he had received.  There was this woman–I think she was a woman, but I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to hope it was a woman–who was, shall we say, on the large side of life, fully…oh, it makes nauseous to recall it.  She was nude.  She had big gold stars on her nipples, and she was striking a pose that, well, I don’t know.  I think she thought it was sexy.  I’m pretty sure this picture could inspire celibacy.

I don’t even hesitate.  “Ummm…oooooookay.”

To which my equally disturbed, but quite more Fun Dip-inspired customer says, “Mmmh.  That’s what I thought.”

After they leave, I’m spreading the word to the world.  I think this comment sums up how I felt about it all:  “Yeah, he asked for my opinion.  Go figure.  It was hideous.  I may never speak to people again.”

* * * * * * *

It takes a special kind of person to blatantly leap the bounds of idiocy.  I found that person.

“Excuse me, can you tell me how much is left on my gift card?”

I look at the card in his hand.  “Sir, that’s a Barnes & Noble card.”  I do my usual Vanna White to the logo sign behind the register.  “We are The Corner Bookstore.  We’re not affiliated with Barnes & Noble.”

He looks at the sign, then me, then his card, then holds it out once again.  “Well, can you check the balance for me?  I have no idea what’s on it.”

Stupidity, sir.  That’s what’s on it.  Good luck cashing that in.

* * * * * * *

Another moment from the Vanna White catalog.

“Do you have any books by Dale Brown?”

After a check, I shake my head.  “Nope.  Dan Brown, but nothing by Dale Brown right now.”

“How do you call yourself a bookstore?”

I turn to face the sign at the register, arm out to showcase the logo.  “We are The Corner Bookstore.  It’s right there in the name.”

Be wary of your words when talking to a bookseller.  Use your internal editor.  You can bet they will be, and their internal editor is a smart ass.

* * * * * *

That’s it for now.  I’ll go back to the daily approach from now on.  If I ever figure out the comics aspect, I’ll start using that as well.  I’ve also got some more additions to the Vault of Absurdities, so keep an eye out.

Now go read something.  And for the sake of the literary world, don’t let it be Twilight.

Security Cat Does Not Like Your Question.

In the meantime, I had a brief conversation with a customer the other day–an out-of-towner who spent close to thirty minutes dutifully selecting three books and a greeting card for gifts for the holiday season.  She offers them to me, and asks what our return policy is.

“It’s 14 days with the receipt,” I reply, before quickly adding, “But given the holiday season, we’ll obviously be lenient on that policy.”

“Oh,” she says, while stacking and re-stacking the three books.  “See, I’m just not sure if they will like these books or not.”  Then, to no surprise, she looks at me as if I might supply the answer.  I did what I do: I stared.  She finally shrugs, and says, “Well, I guess they could just return them if they don’t like them.”

“Of course. No problem, ma’am.”

Then she brings out the heavy artillery.  “Are you affiliated with Barnes & Noble?”

Now, after 6 months, I’ve gotten somewhat used to this treatment.  Every bookstore is affiliated with B&N, or Borders, according to most of our shoppers.  Sadly, I’m just not sure that the general populace is aware that there are independent bookstores, or for that matter, what that means.

“Um, no ma’am.”  I turn to point to the sign hovering over my shoulder on the wall.  “We’re The Corner Bookstore.  We’re an independent store, locally owned.”

“Oh,” she exclaims.  “Oh, well, of course.  Yes.”  Then she fans the books out, pats them, and makes her decision.  “Well, you have stores in Florida, right?”

There is no sigh that befits the moment.  There just isn’t.  There isn’t enough oxygen to clear the frustration from my body, much less my expression.

I laugh, if only to buy myself a further second.  “No ma’am.  Independent.  Locally owned.  Not affiliated with B&N.”

See?  Now imagine that with horribly drawn art, and little dialogue bubbles, and an obvious sign over my shoulder in a panel as she asks her ridiculous questions.  Funnier, eh?

Hopefully soon.  Somewhere between the book, the website, the Duck, and 50+ hours a week here, it’ll happen.

God.  A woman just asked me three times, in three different ways if I had more than the one copy of Little Bee.  Sadly, there’s only one way to say, “No.”

The Bug didn't stand a chance against Patterson

Let all readers, and bugs, alike take to heart the title of one of Patterson’s most recent books, You’ve Been Warned.  Nobody survives Patterson.

No one.

Stuff We Need

Ironically, one will ultimately need you to another, thereby completing the chain, and retaining balance in the universe.  Know them well.  It could mean the difference between standing behind a counter mocking the world, and being at home in your underwear trying to decide between killing cable, or selling your PS3 to the highest bidder.

Today’s count of, “Do you sell cigarettes?” is 17.  Snarky comebacks: 2.  It’s a sad ratio.  We should be ashamed.