Tuesday, September 16, 2008


Woman marches into my inner sanctum with volumes 1, 3 and 5 of a 1950's children's encylopedia - all ripped and torn, tatty and a little sad.

"How much for these ?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, its not something I can buy"

"Why not ? You are the bookseller - it's your job to buy books"

"No ma'am - the clue is in the title, it is my job to sell books"

"But i want you to buy these. Surely you have to buy books from people"

"Only if i think i can sell them"

"So what will you offer me for them ?"

I gave up at this point, melted into a pool of inconsolable sobbing an leaked all over the carpet - carefully avoiding leaking onto her immensely valuable books.

1 comment:

Griffin said...

Ah, so you there IS inconsolable sobbing involved. And I thought it was just in libraries.