Yesterday, I attended a book sale, as mentioned in an earlier post. I hadn't planned to go, wasn't in the mood. So many books, no organization, piled Helter-Skelter throughout a small conference room.
The energy level at these sales are high, reminiscent of a shopping mall the day after Thanksgiving. People rush in, stuff their bags, then proceed to squeeze, push, bump, knock, snatch, trip and hoard books with such rudeness, it takes the patience of steel to remain professional. Yesterday, for many reasons, my patience was thin. So when I entered the building, and saw the comotion, I went straight to my desk. Toward the end of the day, however, I changed my mind. It being late in the afternoon, 30-minutes before the sale would close down, I figured the room would be mostly empty. My assumptions were right. I was alone...for about 5 minutes. Everyone must have had the same idea as me, because, before long, I found myself in the center of a mob. Turns out, an email had been sent, announcing the final sale — $1dollar per hardcover, 50-cent per softcover. It was Christmas in June.
Though the selection was picked over, there were still hundreds of books. For myself, I picked up Edward Sorel: Literary Lives, and The Embrace of a Father. For the wife, I found T.D Jakes, Momma Made the Difference, as well as a copy of the infamous de-shelved, How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life. Ok, admittedly, the book is plagiarized. But, we haven't read the books the author "borrowed" from, so we wouldn't know the difference anyway. I also spotted a copy of Red Polka Dot in a World Full of Plaid. Since I know the author, I had the impulse to point, yell and wave "Hey, this is a good book, and the author reads my blog!" I elected to exercised self control, however. I paid 7-bucks for 7 new books. Cool, what a deal!
As I stood in line to pay for my books, I noticed a young African American lady had purchased Red Polka Dot; I couldn't resist. "That's a good book; I know the author; He lives in Austin; He's African American; It's an Essence bestseller," I informed her, my face sliced up from an earlier shaving accident. She just looked at me without saying a word.
I can be such a dweeb.