The Glass Menage a Trois (Adventures in Bookselling, v.2): Guest Post

2008 at 8am     Posted by Rebecca Joines Schinsky

When I posted about my life as a bookseller (and, apparently, as a wrangler of feral cats) earlier this week, my friend and coworker Mark left a fantastic comment containing three of his own bookselling stories.  I snatched it up from the comments and decided to post it here for all to see. So, back by popular demand, here we have Adventures in Bookselling, v.2.

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Seeing as I’m one of Rebecca’s work colleagues, I thought I’d throw in some of my own tales, just in case you’re not convinced by the level of craziness she’s trying to convey.

1) TRIMMING

I’d only been working at the store a few months when the following conversation took place between myself and a customer:

Me: Thank you for holding, etc.

Guy: Yeah, I’m looking for trimming.

Me: I’m sorry, did you say trimming?

Guy: Yeah, trimming.

(Hey, I’m British and had only been living in the States for a couple of years. Maybe “trimming” was some local vernacular that previously escaped me.)

Me: Are you looking for a book called “Trimming” or, I dunno, a book on gardening?

Guy: No! I just want some trimming!

Me: Excuse me for asking, but what do you want to do with this trimming?

Guy: (exasperated) TRIMMING! TO PUT ROUND A DOOR FRAME!

Me: (a beat) Sir, you are aware that you called (insert name of book store here).

Guy: Yeah.

Me: And you are aware that (insert name of book store here) is a book store?

Guy: YES!

Me: And you’re asking me if we stock door trimming. Trimming to put around the edge of a door frame?

Guy: YES!!!

Me: Erm, have you tried Home Depot?

Guy: They didn’t have any! They said you’d have some!

Me: You sure you didn’t ask them for The Da Vinci Code?

Guy: Huh?

Me: Sir, we don’t sell door trimming.

Guy: (click)

Me: Seriously, WTF.

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2) SCHOOL SEASON

I’ve been asked for the following:

How to Kill a Mockingbird by Lee Harper
January by Charles Bronson*
Withering High by Emily Bront
Land of the Flies
The Glass Ménage à Trois
Sid’s Heart
The Rapes of Wrath

It’s always a joy to hand over The Count of Monte Cristo and see their faces drop when they discover just how big it is. Then you tell them it’s the abridged version.

*They were looking for Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. I’m not kidding.

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3) TAXI DRIVER

Me: Thank you for hol–

Woman: I’m driving to your store. Where you at?

Me: Erm, where are YOU… at?

Woman: I’m on I-123.

Me: (waiting for specifics)

Woman: (waiting for my magical response)

Me: Whereabouts on I-123?

Woman: Heading north.

Me: From?

Woman: Somewheresville. (about 30 miles away)

Me: Are you coming to our store to pick up an order?

Woman: No, just to look.

Me: Because there are about four other stores between here and Somewheresville.

Woman: Where they at?

Me: (headache forming) Did you check for directions before you started driving towards us?

Woman: I know where you at. I just need directions.

Me: (WTF?) Well, if you’re on I-123, just keep heading north and–

Woman: I ain’t on I-123.

Me: Where are you then?

Woman: I don’t know, that’s why I need directions.

Me: Ma’am, your connection’s really bad, can you try calling back?

Woman: What’s your number?

Me: Erm…

And that’s the last I ever heard from her.

Yeah, our cafe sells espresso by the bucketful for a very good reason.

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See? I’m not the only one who thinks (knows) our customers are crazy. In a wild life we booksellers lead.

Oh, did I mention that Mark has an awesome new blog about retro video games?  It’s very cool.

Some of you left great comments about your own crazy work stories, so let’s keep those coming.  It’s Friday, after all, and you know you don’t feel like working.