RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,387
(humiliation like a public beheading, a view
from the inside) [B&N, pt. Three]
Strangely juxtaposing profit and books
seems like an unequal adventure, and did
to me then. The old Booksellers along old
Fourth Avenue, called 'Booksellers' Row'
had little care for that, as long as they met
their paltry rents and maintained an active
status among their peers along the street.
Numerous men, doing the same thing.
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As we, however, enter the more 'modern' era,
we can see the gimmickry that got attached
to most everything. Can you realize that, in
the 1950's, you could hardly buy a box of
cereal with it having inside, within its own
small plastic, a toy car, a cheap set of 'jacks'
(the game), or some otherwise-ludicrous and
plastic-molded lion, tiger or lamb, each of
course without their usual 'Biblical' injunction.
-
Bringing up 'Bibles' as I just did, throws forth
its own headache memories. In the Clark Barnes
& Noble, one of the biggest bones of contention
(besides a subliminal racism, which was harbored
by the unspoken code of white racism in Clark
itself), was Bibles. In the store, we had a rather
large 'corner' dedicated to shelves and shelves
of Bibles - all sorts of translation, and formats.
There was always some slushhead coming in to
complain about us showing 'too many' New
American version translations, while not enough
New Jerusalem Bible translations. In Bible-world
terms, there are probably 40 versions of what
are euphemistically called 'translations' of the
also euphemistically called 'Word' of God. (I
don't think God speaks, aloud or otherwise).
It's all too confusing, because it's ALL translations,
and no one really even knows what's being
'translated.' So, shut up, OK? I had a few
good go-rounds with various assholes who held
forth with their propositions that ALL words of
God were not, somehow, equal. His or hers was
always better, and simply HAD to be. They
never gave up; like Friends Society ladies
protesting pornography. Now I'd probably
just point to their cellphone (one of which
I've never owned) and say, 'How can you
be so grossly self-righteous while, in spite
of your viewpoint, you're walking around
with a complete visual library of Pornography,
accessible at any time, in your hand.
See under 'Devil', OK?
-
But, the drive for money is everywhere, and is
the occasioned 'root' of all Evil. So the seers say.
Barnes & Noble had taken 'Bookselling' and
tarted it up - coffee and crumpets, teas, soups,
granola bars, along with big fat greasy chairs,
at the ready and at all times. We'd get new,
replacement chairs, wrapped in plastic, maybe
twice a year, and it was always profitable.
Removing the old, soiled chairs, and slitting
their cushions and fabrics open with a knife
before throwing them in the dumpster, yielded,
most often 6 or seven dollars worth of change,
per chair. Quarters and dimes and stuff that
had gone from a pocket, of the sitter, into the
depths of the chair. Moving the chair about,
sometimes it was possible just by listening, to
hear the riches about to befall you (me). People
are so oblivious to things. 'Keep the money;
leave the cannolis.'
-
These were, as well, the years of that strange,
overblown, manchild rage, Harry Potter. As the
Hobbit books (Tolkien) had been for idiot hippies
of the 1960's, Harry Potter was for the idiot kids
(now probably parents, in their late 20's, with
idiot kids of their own, awaiting a new, lethal
e-craze of war-entitlement gaming) of the years
around 2005. One after another of those stupid
books would come out, maybe every 10 months,
and the store would be inundated with huge
deliveries of the magical schlock, which we'd
have to 'store' and keep packed and unopened
and under guard of sorts, until which the official
midnight unveiling date was. It was pathetic,
each and every time. The store would be filled
with little brat/bastards dressed up character kids,
supposing to be this or that character from the
books (as if the world needed another Voldemort),
and they were all and each specious, snobby
about themselves, and their privilege. You never
saw any rotten, poor kids come out for this,; it
was all the brats from Cranford and Westfield and
such, with their snouts already high in the air.
They and their parents would easily peg down
45 bucks without thinking, for the newest book
and any magic wand or kid Dildo we could find
to sell them. I'm surprised no one of them ever
grew up to be a rock-star named Kid Dildo!
-
Mixing profit and books, as I said, is a difficult
task. Toy stores mostly stay with toys. And Music
stores with music. Not today's version of 'Bookstores.'
They'd gladly sell you the wellspring pocket of a
Maxim Gorky if you'd deign to buy it, and make
up, for you, a requisite story to stay with the theme.
Here, have a coffee and read all these magazines.
Here, paw through our Manga and self-help stuff.
But DON'T you touch the classics, if you can find
them; that's not what this is about. Every year about
Nov 7, there'd be a 'mandatory' 6am meeting of store
employees, in the cafe, with coffee, bagels, and donuts
provided (!!!!), to go over all the upcoming Christmas
season stuff (I'm not sure if they actually said that
word; you know how goes...), and all the department
heads had to give their pep-rally spiel for 'Sales!'. It
was one toke over the line, Sweet Jesus, one toke
over the line, always and for sure!
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There were always problems to be dealt with too.
14 year old boys taking the porno mags into the
men's room, and wanking on them. One time, in
a horrifying spectacle, the Store Manager of that
time actually dragged a kid out of the bathroom.
She made a public, very public, spectacle of outing
the poor kid for doing what he was doing, in a very
loud voice, threatening to call his Mother and/or the
police. It was torrid, what she did. The poor kid
probably couldn't look at his own dick after that
for a month! Humiliation like that has to scar, and
I love to see that kid today. I figured that sort
of scolding was way out of line. Today, who
knows, she'd probably get in trouble, not him.
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