RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,388
(meandering through the aisles) B&N part FOUR
I've always held to the opinion that a person
can only really hold one opinion about things.
After that, it's all just alternatives which vary.
That's why, perhaps, there are bookstores?
That idea turned out way wrong - they have
bookstores so you can endlessly buy shit.
Barnes & Noble specialized in this, and most
especially as the bottom line began shrinking.
It always had the urge to peddle - stationary
and desk sets. Dainty little pens and pencils,
diaries and journals, those 'round-rh-world'
travel journals, pre-lined and pictured for the
jaded. Games. Gel-sets and puzzles, It all went
on and on, and I'll sort of stop here, but as holiday
seasons approached it burgeoned even more.
The storage became monumental; boxes piled
at storage room corners and against closed or
little-used doorways. In time, they all were
gotten to. Father's Day, Mother's Day, anything
with a title - even Flatulent Forefather's Day -
got an endcap and a 'power-aisle' berth to snag
people along the way. You were NOT allowed
to be idle in the store...had to be constantly on
the prowl to buy. Even though the store's premise
had been 'to idle', the concept had died. What
good then is a dream, without a reality?
-
That's where I got stuck. E-readers and such
had just come out, around 2006 (when I left),
and though I viewed them with complete disdain,
as an 'employee' I had to learn their ways and
uses. Floor 'booksellers', in addition, then each
needed to take a turn, each shift, manning the
stupid 'Nook' kiosk to try and peddle the junk.
A 'Nook' is what the geniuses at Barnes &
Noble decided to call their version of a Kindle.
I was sure I wasn't about to start peddling 'Nooks'
or 'Nookie' either, not in a store format anyway.
I figured any day next to come would be self
guided reading-finger guides which 'read' for
you - the pulp matter of these Kindle books
was of such grimy levels that I couldn't even
see a reason to read the crud.
-
In addition, we kept getting weird things that
had to be tended to. Some Joey Baccigalupo
guy, or some name like that, from a TV show
called The Sopranos, that everyone apparently
watched, kept showing up for appearances at the
store. To be catered to and fawned after. 'Who is
this twerp?' I asked - but apparently I was
supposed to know, as did everyone else. As I
recall, he had written some sort of book about
his TV experiences, or something, because
other than that I couldn't see any reason for
the fat horse to be within 12 miles of any
bookstore in the world. Some other guy, at
about the same time, kept setting up a fund-
raising table for some local SPCA civic group
on Saturdays, and he always needed a table and
some chairs, for the weekend appearances, for
which he'd bring his fat, squat, weirdly-toothed
and Churchillian authentic English Bulldog, to
woo the kids and everyone else. The dog was
probably 80 years old. Between the Sopranos
guy, and the bulldog sequence, repeating, I was
getting really tired of the routines. It was like
being on clown duty over at Jonathan's house.
(see chapter TWO of B&N Rudiments, for the
reference).
-
The fellow, or Store Manager who had hired me,
by the time a began working there 10 days later,
was already gone. I actually forget his name.
He'd been transferred to manage the Clifton, NJ
store, and - as he told me - that was to be is
last day in Clark. So I guess, as well, I was his
last hire. That was OK, and as much as I liked
him, for that brief moment, there was no loss
because we really didn't know each other. I
forget what happened after that - there was a
fill-in Manager, or the assistant just moved up
to fill the slot. But in about 3 weeks, there was
a new Manager guy, named Jeff. He was OK.
Strait arrow, all-American boy type, lover the
Yankees, and baseball, always going on about
Roger Clemons and stuff, and he wore these
cool woven-cord weave belts, with his khakis.
It always looked cool to me. I, of course, had no
idea of casual work dress, myself - being used
to leather and armor, as it were. Jeff seemed to
like me and my work well enough. Jeff played
guitar and fancied himself an erstwhile rockstar
type, songwriter, etc. I mentioned him previous,
as the winning writer of some filth-song contest.
(I said it was for the Howard Stern show, but
have been corrected by a B&N friend that it was
Opie and Anthony). Cool thing about Jeff too was
his hair. It was like mid-30's thinning, and then
it started seeming fuller, and then full! He was
doing a toupee/wig thing, progressively, and
saying nothing about it, and then after meeting
a new, post-divorce girlfriend, he came in one
day completely bald! She had convinced him to
give it up, quit the pretense, and just begin
shaving his head. Which he did. Life has
so many magics!!
-
I had more fun getting to know my truck driver
guys, and the UPS guy. Their arrivals were always
pretty much timed, I knew when they'd each be
coming, within a half hour or so. We'd unload,
talk, schmooze. I'd listen to their complaints and
gripes. If the weather was lousy, they'd stay a bit,
to dry out or warm up. Or get cool (UPS trucks
were H-O-T). At least Fed Ex was air-conditioned,
He was from Turkey, his family and lineage, but
he would never talk politics. 'I don't know nothing
about that. And I keep quiet, I'm from Turkey, but
way in the south of...' One of the other semi tractor-
trailer, guys had some racket going, in Pennsylvania.
It sounded brilliant, but I could never quite figure
it out. He had some Pennsylvania acreage, way out
somewhere; about 40 acres. He'd hooked up with
some land-development company for them to give
him 60,000 dollars each time they built a model
home on his property, and let people in to see it,
and act as their on-site salesperson too. He said
he had done one, so far, had gotten the money,
yes, but had never lifted a finger, nor shown the
property, to anyone. The company had no idea
how inactive he was. It was his idea of a very
cool scam, and he fully intended them to eventually
want to do two more. I figured it as a very risky
venture, maybe not even worth the risk. He said
that from it, he'd gotten the equivalent of an
actual 'guest house' and 60 grand, if nothing
else. It was set to sell for about $280,000,
if ever.
-
Another truck driver, a cool, short, round black
guy, from North Carolina somewhere, came in
one day, all excited. I'd seen him a few times
before, over book deliveries and return skids
and such, , but this time, whatever time of year
it was, had him all fired up. He came rushing
in, exclaiming "You got Marlboros! You got
Marlboros!" in his Carolina drawl. I thought
he wanted a cigarette, and said 'No, sorry, I
don't smoke. Ask those guys over there; they
do.' He looked at me funny. And said "No, no,
you don't unnerstan!' You got Marlboros!"
-
He was saying that, in the side-yard of the
store, I had Mulberries - a tree, and it was
dropping its Mulberries everywhere. He
made wine from them and wanted to know
if he could take mulberries with him. I said
'Sure, knock yourself out. Take all you want!'
He stayed probably another half hour, all over
that tree, taking mulberries and bagging them.
-
As I've said, the kids working under me were
about 23-24, at most. I was 50. On the staff,
older than me, were a number of retired
schoolteacher types, in fact, two of the guys
were and had been local high school teachers,
and thus they too knew some of the kids from
back when the kids were their students. One
guy, a retired English teacher, was, shall we
say, a bit too forward with the young boys. It
started slow, and then grew. Until one day,
in one of his many trips to the back room area
where we worked, to see another of the boys,
he got too touchy, and the kid punched him out.
Really; right to the floor. Store policy demanded
an ambulance be called, etc., even over the guy's
protestations that he'd be OK. The District Manager
had to be called, and in a few days an almost
Inquisitional review of the situation had to be
done. We each (those of us who had witnessed
the scene), had to write exactly what we saw, and
our own version and opinion of what transpired.
Each of the two involved had to be grilled,
reviewed, and interrogated once more. The
kicker was - store policy again - the BOTH
had to be fired, no matter the conclusions reached.
Nobody wanted either one of them to go, but they
were both removed from employment. The kid
went on to some gardening and maintenance
job, and the older guy started selling shirts and
men's clothing at the Westfield Lord &Taylor's.
