“It’s a twenty-five percent discount, right?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Everything in the store is twenty-five percent off cover.”
“Great.”
Then she wandered away and started picking through our stock. About a half-hour later, she had quite the pile’o’books. I was pleasantly surprised….
…until she looked at me with a face that just said trouble.
“How about this?” She held out a Christmas book.
“How about it?”
“Well, I mean…it’s a Christmas book.”
“Yes, it is.”
“So?”
“So…Merry Christmas?”
“But it’s March.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s not Christmas.”
“No, it’s not. But the Ides of March are upon us.”
“Yes, but this book isn’t about the Ides of March. It’s about Christmas.”
“Yes, it is.”
“The discount’s twenty-five percent?”
“Yes, it is.”
“But shouldn’t it be more?”
“Because it’s not about the Ides of March?”
“Exactly. This book is out of season.”
“Well, you know…seasons come and seasons go, but the discounts are always here. And right now, they’re here at twenty-five percent.”
And so, after all that work, she put it back on the shelf.
Welcome to the closing of the store. Whatever we’re doing, it’s not enough. The discount isn’t deep enough, the selection isn’t good enough, the hours aren’t long enough.
Making me completely nutty.
But what’s worse are the eight million people who have come in and said, in their sad voices with their sad faces, how upset they are we’re closing. People neither LuAnn nor I have ever – EVER – seen.
Piss off. Don’t come telling me how sad it is when you’ve never, ever bought anything from us and probably have never set foot in the store.
There’s a book group that meets. One of the ladies in it has also never bought a book from us. Yeah, she comes and uses the store after hours but gets all her books from the library. I used to think she maybe didn’t have much money, so that’s understandable.
But last week, after their meeting, she plunked down better than $100…and was sad about us closing.
Kiss my Texas ass. How about that? How about, if you spend even as little as five or ten bucks every month when you guys meet, we might not be going out of business.
Auuughhh.
I’m sure I’ll get over that kind of crap eventually. What’s actually making me sad is the selling of the fixtures. When the books get sold and there is a hole, I just face out whatever’s left, make it look good.
But when seats and lamps and bookshelves get sold, there’s a hole in everything. Can’t just move some shelves around to cover it. There is no way to hide a thinning out store.
And even though the closing is very real – obviously – seeing holes where fixtures once stood makes it somehow more real. Not sure why that is, but it is.
And here’s the other maddening thing: special orders are through the roof. I mean hundreds of dollars of special orders – again from people who’ve never ordered through us – and there is no discount on that stuff. Those books are full price and people are flocking to buy them.
I don’t get it. And anymore, I don’t want to get it, I just want your money. Buy everything, get it out of my store, and leave your money on the counter.
And whoever the last person is, turn off the lights and lock the door.