Since Borders is a mega-chain, not a unique treasure, though, maybe the puppy won't be quite as lovable as the one dispatched in Acres' honor. Maybe a puppy less like this:
And more like this:
Cute, but not unbearably so.
Whatever the associated puppy looks like, the closing of a bookstore is always a sad thing. This sadness is usually associated with an uncomfortable elation, since bookstore closures are often accompanied by closing sales. And, with such ridiculous savings to be had, the life of a vulture is a little less... um... gross.
Anyway. Carrion bird metaphors aside, bookstore closing sales are freaking tasty treats. Borders @ Third Street is offering 40% off everything, except Paperchase items, which are 75% off. Plus, all the fixtures are on sale, prompting me to ask Brian on more than one occasion: "Yes, but what would you do with it?"
I browsed half-heartedly through the shelves, which were, on Tuesday, already sparsely populated mockeries of their former selves. A half-dozen books from various sections in the store would be stacked on a random shelf among a haphazard collection of DVDs, greeting cards, and the occasional coffee cup. And everywhere were books I'd seen elsewhere and thought about getting: the Hapa Project's book, collections of religious scriptures, novels I might one day want to read by authors I know I'd love if I just gave them a chance. I had to keep reminding myself that 40% off was 60% on, and if I only half wanted the book... well, you do the math. And I was doing the math on a small stack of treasures when I was pleased to overhear the following:
Sixteen Year Old Girl: Oh my God! I love this guy!
Obliging Father: I don't know who that is.
SYOG: William S. Burroughs? He was one of the Beats.
SYOG went on to give her father a mini-lesson on Burroughs, the Beats, and the significance of the newly published And the Hippos Were Boiled in their Tanks. It was so cool. In the end, the line was just a little bit too long to convince me to whip out ye ol Visa card. And I was happy to leave my stack of treasures behind, in the hope that another girl and her father might bond over them and the closing sale that made them 40% more buyable.
Here's to books, and bookstores, and the puppies whose fates to theirs are forever tied.
Whatever the associated puppy looks like, the closing of a bookstore is always a sad thing. This sadness is usually associated with an uncomfortable elation, since bookstore closures are often accompanied by closing sales. And, with such ridiculous savings to be had, the life of a vulture is a little less... um... gross.
Anyway. Carrion bird metaphors aside, bookstore closing sales are freaking tasty treats. Borders @ Third Street is offering 40% off everything, except Paperchase items, which are 75% off. Plus, all the fixtures are on sale, prompting me to ask Brian on more than one occasion: "Yes, but what would you do with it?"
I browsed half-heartedly through the shelves, which were, on Tuesday, already sparsely populated mockeries of their former selves. A half-dozen books from various sections in the store would be stacked on a random shelf among a haphazard collection of DVDs, greeting cards, and the occasional coffee cup. And everywhere were books I'd seen elsewhere and thought about getting: the Hapa Project's book, collections of religious scriptures, novels I might one day want to read by authors I know I'd love if I just gave them a chance. I had to keep reminding myself that 40% off was 60% on, and if I only half wanted the book... well, you do the math. And I was doing the math on a small stack of treasures when I was pleased to overhear the following:
Sixteen Year Old Girl: Oh my God! I love this guy!
Obliging Father: I don't know who that is.
SYOG: William S. Burroughs? He was one of the Beats.
SYOG went on to give her father a mini-lesson on Burroughs, the Beats, and the significance of the newly published And the Hippos Were Boiled in their Tanks. It was so cool. In the end, the line was just a little bit too long to convince me to whip out ye ol Visa card. And I was happy to leave my stack of treasures behind, in the hope that another girl and her father might bond over them and the closing sale that made them 40% more buyable.
Here's to books, and bookstores, and the puppies whose fates to theirs are forever tied.
3 comments:
Oh my goodness. I saw that Hapa book in the B&N at which I do story time with the kids. I noticed it and since I had gotten there early, decided to have a gander.
I read through the whole thing and I think I actually made myself late because I was so fascinated with it. I actually thought of you immediately, wanted to buy it and send it to you, but I didn't know if that was weird or if you would be like, "What the hell?"
Now I'm sad I didn't. *sigh*
See? I should listen to my crazy thoughts and see where they take me!
PS I'm in Long Beach next week. I want to see you and Mike!!
1) I bought way too much stuff at that closing sale.
2) I forgive you for exposing me to Wet Puppy during the research for this blarg. Barely.
3) I would have mounted the "Please Pay Here" sign on my wall. And had doodle parties on it. There are two ways to interpret that sentence. Both are amusing to me.
what i do love is that all the stupid randomness has already been plucked, leaving the awesome randomness behind. like a book on graphic design for religious communities. or a book on art as environmental activism. or a book on philosophy and new media. argh. i wanted to get it all, so i got none of it.
darned cute puppies. except for the last "puppy."
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