Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 3/29

I didn't anticipate much business at the floating bookshop today, as the wind was very brisk. Marie stopped by on her way to Manhattan to return items to Bed, Bath and Beyond. She described herself as an "impulse buyer." I'd never have guessed it. She seems so level-headed. She's been so kind to me, donating darn near 100 CDs and videotapes, most of which I've sold. And she bought A Hitch in Twilight, which she is currently enjoying, as is Mark, who also visited. He bought the collection almost two years ago and has finally gotten to it. He really enjoyed the second story, Defining Moment, which is about a whipping boy wrestler, although he believes the steroid angle briefly cited is "antiquated." Steroids saved his life. He opened up about himself as never before. About a decade ago he had a real drug problem. He kicked it cold turkey and said everything ever depicted about the process, especially the vomiting, was true. Then he began having problems with his stomach, and doctors failed to pinpoint the cause. I assumed it was a consequence of abuse but said nothing. His weight dropped to 130. If the loss continued, he faced organ failure. He was prescribed steroids and recovered. He still takes them. He feels and looks great, but worries about the long term effects. He had to make a choice: improved quality of life or constant pain and the possibility of future problems. He chose ten to fifteen good years and the hope of more. I wished him the best and he went on his way. Ten minutes later he returned to tell me how much he enjoyed Network 2015, which, in a Hitchcockian way, deals with the problem of the future ratio of Social Security recipients to tax payers. He was reminded of the studies he and classmates had done on the subject at Syracuse's business school, one of the finest in the country. Needless to say, that made my day.
Although running back Brandon Jacobs was a key component of the Giants' past two Super Bowl victories, I am not saddened at his departure to the 49ers. He is as boorish as they come.
I thank Mr. Almost, who purchased two books in Russian, and Joey Fork Tongue, who lives on a reservation in Connecticut, near a country club. He sent in a mail order for Killing, overpaying in the process. 21 copies left.
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