What a day! March has come in like a lion for the floating bookshop. It looked bleak for the first hour-and-a-half, then George, a South-American, came along. He asked if I would feed quarters into the parking meter in an hour, once his initial deposit elapsed. He had a doctor's appointment. He offered me two bucks. I would probably have done it for nothing. I hate to see anyone get a ticket. I consider it a nuisance tax. It was a bit disheartening to take the money, but I thought it'd be all I saw today.
Minutes later Marie happened by and asked if I'd be interested in CD's. A friend's bar went out of business and she wound up with everything in the jukebox. I said "sure." She returned with a box filled with 35 of them, mostly rock and blues, and they were in their original cases. I was certain they'd be loose. I immediately put two aside, a Talking Heads compilation from which I will upload several songs, and another of modern country artists, which I will give to my buddy, Bags, who is a big country fan. I'll sell each for a dollar. I don't know if there will be interest in many of them, but I know the AC/DC, Pearl Jam, and Bon Jovi will sell. Thanks, madam.
As I was sorting through them, George returned, well before the first hour had elapsed. I wanted to return the extra quarters in case he needed to feed another meter, but he wouldn't hear of it. He noticed the three CD's I'd laid out and asked what type of music it was, and I said the only thing he would like was the Josh Groban, with whom he was unfamiliar. Still, he took a shot. Then he asked about A Hitch in Twilight, and purchased it! I was shocked. I hadn't done anything for him. As he was about to leave, he snapped to attention and saluted, then explained he'd been a commander of UN forces for 25 years. I bet he's seen a lot. Muchas gracias, Commandante.
As if that wasn't enough, Laura (Lowwww-ra, as Europeans say) appeared. Last summer she purchased a bunch of books, including Hitch and Close to the Edge. I'd wondered if her appearance then had simply been a rare instance of her being in the neighborhood. I asked the question that hadn't occurred to me then - if she was a writer. She said she wrote only as therapy (t'erapy, as she pronounces it in her charming Romanian accent). She then related how she'd been having trouble in a science course and the instructor suggested she enter an essay contest for extra credit - and she came in first! The topic she chose was Nobel science winners. I applauded and said: "Bravissima." She then told me how much she enjoyed Close to the Edge. I was touched. When she was ready to go she held out her arms for a hug, and I jumped in and couldn't resist kissing her cheek. And for a day all the frustrations of the floating bookshop seemed worth it, and not madness.
Read Vic's stories, free: http://vicfortezza.homestead.com/
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