It was a glorious day, temperature in the 70's, a stiff breeze taking any heat out of the air. The only drawback was the pollen flying around. Everyone, including me, was sneezing or trying to hack the nasty bits out of the windpipe. I got a donation of four pristine hardcover thrillers and at least ten paperbacks from a kind Russian woman. She wanted to bring more, but it was already too much to carry back to the car. Spasiba, madam. Simone stopped and told me how much she enjoyed the Lisa Jackson and Patricia Cornwell mysteries. She bought them Monday. She plans to read Dean Koontz's Icebound over the weekend. Other than that, it was a demoralizing opening two and a half hours at the floating bookshop. Since I'm overstocked, I'm selling all books for a dollar apiece (except mine, of course) - and no one so much as paused, despite the best sellers on display. Herb finally broke the drought, as he has so many times, purchasing Julie Garwood's Sizzle. I learned he had a heart attack several years ago. Fortunately, his Blue Cross insurance picked up the entire tab, $40,000.
Minutes later a young man bought Frank Herbert's sci-fi classic, Dune, and a book in the Dean Koontz Frankenstein series, which has nothing to do with the monster of the same name. Soon lovely 13-year-old Mariana was approaching on her way home from school. She often seems sad. I gathered Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter, Maugham's Of Human Bondage, and Dumas' The Man in the Iron Mask and asked her to choose one. As I anticipated, she chose the latter and smiled and thanked me. I love that such a young girl is interested in serious books and wonder if she will one day take a shot at writing.
I spotted mailman extraordinaire, Mr. Chou, and waved. I knew he would take Suze Orman's Nine Steps to Financial Freedom. He has agreed to give me a commission if he ever gets rich as a result of all the books he has purchased from me. He said his mom used to make him stay home and read to keep him out of trouble. He is a martial arts master, and gun owner.
As I was packing up, an energetic, elderly semi-regular appeared and chose a Jonathan Kellerman thriller. My mood had lightened considerably. I found a parking spot for tomorrow's alternate side at the far corner of East 13th. I walked up to Avenue Y and gazed along it. Sure enough, as I'd hoped, Uncle Charlie Grizzly Bear was making his way toward me. For some reason, he uses that route at times. I've been holding a bag of Ed McBain 87th Precinct novels for him, which Joanne donated last Sunday. He took ten, which I let him have for half price. I'll hold the rest for whenever he's ready.
Thanks, everyone.
Please remember that for the time being many of the links at my website will come a cropper (crapper?):
http://vicfortezza.homestead.com/
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