My grandson has also got tonsillitis so is upstairs watching Chucklevision whilst his mother cracks a few spines to put bread on their table. I am on my Second Cup already and thinking of starting a Coffee worshipping cult. Right now though I have to devise a booby trap for customers who take books out of my window display without asking then damage them putting them back carelessly, as happened recently. I have already made it hard for them and put up a notice, but they still sneak in hoping to get a quick peek unsupervised. I change the display weekly and many weeks it doesn't matter if someone takes a book out (though they wouldn't do it in a dress shop, or a china shop, or any other shop in fact so why in a book shop..... I checked with the Red Cross ladies - people don't even do it there!!!) This week I have displayed the wondrous books I bought from D last week. D is an ex-University prof. ex- headmaster of a notable local Academy, long-time book-collector who lives in a small council house filled with fine bindings and fascinating ephemera. A box of magic. At the moment he is loving Victorian Scraps and has some huge ones. I think they are ugly but respect his amusement with them. You can tell he doesn't do much cooking in his kitchen because the work surfaces are covered with these things, enormous peacocks, Little Boy Blue, be-bustled ladies and so on. Everywhere else in the house are books. In his entrance hall, in pride of place, is a handsome book with the front board facing utwards bearing the proud title 'Pig Sticking' in gilt, alongside a pig who looks quite complacent about the whole thing. Pig sticking apart, Donald likes the same books as me. Art. Literature. Poetry. Children's books. First edition moderns ( I REEALLY want the Sylvia Plath 1st.) Then there are the fun ones stacked towering against the wall in a spare room upstairs. I nearly killed myself playing pic-a-stick with one, trying to get it from under twenty others without taking the whole pile down. The topmost book fell on my head. There are no truly precious booksin that room so no harm was done except to my head and who cares about that I hear you say... if you are a bibliophile too.
Back to my window display and the booby trap. I have rigged up a string of bells bought from the nice young woman who has opened an gift shop at the other end of town. Into this string I have threaded a Greek goat bell which makes a noisy jangle when provoked. They will have to limbo under it with an arm and most of the books this week are too fat to get back past it wihout ringing that bell. A tall cat with a winsome expression, from the same gift shop, carries a polite sign around its slender neck asking those who wish to look to ask me first. I just know it won't stop some trying, but that's customers for you. The nice young woman and I often exchange stories on this topic. There are some people who simply aren't aware of their surroundings and dump their wet bags, macs etc. on top of goods displayed on her counter. When I had a counter they did the same. I remember a book fair at which I had many books displayed front up on the green cloth. Most where in protective plastic. One collectable paperback children's book was not. Naturally the wet mac went on that!! She, the young shop owner who I will call Kerry as I don't know her name yet, is also plagued by the folk who HAVE to touch EVERYTHING and can't manage to put it back where they found it. And so on. I can forgive anyone almost anything if they pay me enough but it's rare that these folk buy. They are Mystery Shoppers sent by some evil corporate Divinity to test my quality of service and Sellers Ethics.
I have only once been aware of having a book stolen. That morning I had turned a book front board out to attract attention to it. It was a large handsome modern novel called 'The Book Thief.' I suppose it was too much to resist. Or maybe they misread the title. I know who the thief was. Over the last couple of years I have been visited by two teenagers, brother and sister, who have tried local schools and found them not to their taste. Their mother has given up and now 'home eductaes' them. Which means sending them into my shop to sit and read books which they never buy whilst she shops. That would be harmless enough only one day I became aware of a savoury smell drifting from their end of the shop and went to find them with Cornish pasties and a bottle of pop each having a picnic up the corner. Pushed too far, I threw them out. They came in another few times but the last time their mother (who is also exasperating and always asks to have books put aside for her which she never picks up) took a nicely bound unopened copy of "The History of Western Philosophy' out from the shelf, cracked open the spine and ironed the pages with a plump fist to show the kids something or other. When I winced and protested she made her usual speech about 'home educating.' I asked her to go to the library where she would find the same book and she could educate away at their leisure without damaging my stock. That was the day I lost the 'Book Thief' and I haven't seen them since. I think their absence is probably cheap at the price.
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