“You’re not going to believe this,” says the man on the line, “but I’m looking for a book.”
“Huh,” I reply. “I guess it’s a good thing you called a bookstore then, isn’t it?”
Sometimes, I absolutely love people. Sometimes, I love the people I talk to all day. I love their funny little quirks and their timid voices and sometimes their silly questions, as long as they know how silly they are. One of my all-time favorite calls was from a fellow who opens up with, “I am looking for an absurdly large marker.”
However, on Wednesday afternoon, I had a series of assholes that were rude, bitter, and possibly retarded. One woman accused me of being “uneducated”, while another told me that it was “very inappropriate” that I had transferred her call to Textbooks instead of General Books. I’m not entirely sure what that means. Either way, it was a shitty afternoon, which is why I ended up getting slightly trashed at Kai’s with Jason, Sandy, Steve, Rebecca, and Jessica. It was Very Good Times. Jessica and I ended up making drunken plans for the next day after work, declaring we would stay up all fucking night drinking BAWLS and Red Bull, eat junk food, watch some SciFi, and then make an expedition out to IHOP at some ridiculous hour of the morning.
I am nothing if not a woman of my word, so that’s exactly what we did. Together with Nat, we watched Doctor Who and feasted upon energy drinks and chips until I started to doze off at about 2:30. I crashed in bed for a while before they woke me at 5 AM and we all crawled sluggishly over to the IHOP. It was fucking cold out there, and it started snowing while we were waiting for the bus. We had pancakes and crepes and two pitchers of coffee. It was fantastic.
Nat and I both had to be at the Bookstore by 9, although we managed to get there early enough to take naps in the lounge. I don’t think I’d be conscious right now otherwise. It’s been a cool day but I can’t wait to get home and crash for a bit. Especially since I just remembered tomorrow is my first day off in twelve days and my last one for another eight.
As a closing note: I sold five of my Laurell K Hamilton books and spent the money I got for them (which wasn’t much) on two books by Iain Banks, The Wasp Factory and Whit. I’ve never heard of this guy, but the books got my attention, and I knew I had to buy them when I read the back of The Wasp Factory.
“Meet Frank Cauldhame. Just sixteen, and unconventional to say the least:
Two years after I killed Blyth I murdered my young brother Paul, for quite different and more fundamental reasons than I’d disposed of Blyth, and then a year after that I did for my young cousin Esmerelda, more or less on a whim.
That’s my score to date. Three. I haven’t killed anybody for years, and don’t intend to ever again.
It was just a stage I was going through.”
…shit, of course I bought it.