Lying Liars: Bizarre Customers, Part-the-mumble...

While I'm away in Asheville for the week, I wanted to schedule a post or two.  Obviously I'm not going to write an actual book review, but I have just the right amount of energy to recount a terrible/laughable customer encounter I had right before Christmas. For whatever reason, I totally kept my cool and was even trying very hard not to laugh through the whole thing, so I must have been in just the right mood. I often feel deflated after bad customer interactions and I tolerate behavior directed toward me that I would never allow to be directed toward my staff So the way that this story ends is particularly satisfying.

Woman: Yes, I called yesterday about The Hobbit.  Where is it?

Me: Right over here in the sci-fi/fantasy section. We keep the Tolkien on the bottom shelf. [In a fit of bookseller humor]. You could say he anchors this section.

Woman: Which one is the illustrated one?

Me: Well, we have a couple editions with some of Tolkien's original illustrations, but I wouldn't call them illustrated editions, per se.  They're right here...

Woman: What? Why have you lied to me?  I called yesterday and you told me that you had illustrated Hobbits.  Now where are they?

Me: Well, I didn't personally tell you that we had illustrated editions, and I'm sorry if one of my coworkers did.  I know there was a Michael Hague illustrated edition at one point, and I can check to see if it's still available...

Woman: Do you have it here?  If not, don't bother.  You're a liar and I wouldn't buy anything from a liar.

Me: Well, ma'am. Well, again, I didn't personally lie to you, and there's an excellent chance I can have the book for you by tomorrow.  This close to the holidays, we place special orders every day of the week. I'm sorry that you're upset, but why don't you let me see if I can have it for you tomorrow?

Woman: Was I not clear? You're a liar -- you're all liars -- and I will never shop here again.

Me: Ma'am, I'm very sorry that you're upset, but I'm trying to make the situation right for you.  What would it take to make you stop calling me a liar make you happy?

Woman: Why would I trust the word of a liar? You're just upset that I'm yelling for everybody else in the store to hear.  Well, I'm going to tell everybody I know that Odyssey Bookshop is filled with liars.  *stomps off, with a tone that implies that she thinks I'm probably a whore, too.*

Normally, an encounter like this would really make me angry.  But it was just so obvious to me how ridiculous the situation was that I called out to her, with a big grin, as she walked away: "Ma'am,  I'm really sorry.  And I'm really sorry that you think it's okay to treat people that way, but I'm glad you took it out on me and not somebody else."

A small clutch of customers who had started to gather 'round started applauding.  I curtsied once (while I was thinking, to save time) and got back to work. I don't normally give any lip back to customers, no matter the situation, but for this I was fighting to keep my face straight the whole time.  It was almost as if it had been Will Ferrell there in the store, hurling those accusations at me:

In other words, it was pretty hard to take her seriously.  What about y'all?  Do you have any outlandish customer tales to share with me?

Crazy Customer Requests

    Glory gets it.     

As anybody who has ever held a customer service position knows, you can get a lot of crazy requests.  It's not our job to judge, but to help the customer obtain whatever it is that s/he is looking for. So be it. I made it all the way through the Holiday 2014 season without getting much flak, but this afternoon I had a curious conversation.

We get crazy questions at the bookstore all the time, but usually they're prefaced with something like, "This is probably a long shot, but do you have..." or "You probably don't carry X, but I thought I'd check, just in case."  I like these questions.  I LOVE that customers think of our little independent bookstore as a place that might carry unlikely items: frisbees (seasonally), nail polish (sometimes), chemistry goggles (yes, during textbook season), swimming goggles (no), drumsticks (no), glitter glue (obviously), scented markers (usually), wine bottle stoppers (usually), giant carabiners (only recently), or novelty socks (always).  I could go on, but you get the picture.  Bookstores carry a lot more than just books these days, and I can't tell you how gratifying it is when a customer expresses amazement over our non-book selection.

It's when they get really ticked off when we don't carry something that I have to shake my head.  I've been told off for not carrying swimming goggles (see above) or drumsticks (ditto).

Here's a rough transcription of my conversation with a customer today on the phone:

Woman (with a severe case of up-speak): Hi? I'm calling to see what kinds of things you might have on wrestling for kids?

Me: Sure, I can look into that for you.  How old is the child?

Woman: He's five?

Me: Okay, great. So, ah, wrestling...um...did you have in mind something like a book about the WWF, or maybe something more like greco-roman wrestling?

Woman: What?

Me: I mean, do you want something like the kind of wrestling you might see on tv for entertainment? Or more like wrestling as a sport?

Woman: I just want stuff on wrestling?

Me: Okay, let me get your name and phone number, and I'll see what books are out there, and I'll give you a call right back.

Woman: Actually, I want wrestling DVDs.

Me: Oh, I'm sorry, we don't carry DVDs but I will see what I can order for you.

Woman: You don't have any wrestling DVDs in stock?

Me: No, I'm sorry, but our warehouse might have just the thing if you'd like me to research it for you.

Woman: Well, what books do you have in the store?

Me: I'm afraid we don't carry much in stock in terms of wrestling books for 5 year olds, but I can see what...

Woman: *Interrupting me and mysteriously losing her up-speak*  Oh, no.  I need it today. Are you telling me you can't help me at all? I called you because I thought you were supposed to be a good bookstore. I should have just called Barnes & Noble!

Yeah, I'm sure the Barnes & Noble the next town over has plenty of wrestling DVDs suitable for a five year old.  Good luck, lady. I could hear the dudgeon in her voice as she slammed the phone down.

I should have just directed her to the internet to find suitable gifs, for they are a-plenty!

My Week In Books (and Bookish Things!)

This past week has been a pretty good one on many levels.  Good for the store in terms of publicity, good for me in terms of acquisitions of books and bookish swag, a fun author dinner, and one very amusing customer encounter.

Because I am a bookseller, and because I am very, very lucky, I will receive anywhere from 5-20 books in any given week.  Sometimes these are finished books (i.e. new books) that are new in hardcover or paperback.  Most of the time these are ARCs (advance reading copies) or bound manuscripts. Even given the fact that most of these books I have no interest in reading, that's a pretty good gig, and it generally guarantees that I will always have more books in my possession than I will ever have hope of reading.  (In case you were laboring under the misinformation that booksellers can read at work, let me disabuse you of that right now. I work on average 45 hours per week and the only times I'm free to read are my lunch breaks.)

This past week, however, the best book that I received came not from the publisher, but from my coworker, Julie.  She had somehow managed to score the one bound manuscript of Amy Poehler's new memoir, Yes Please, that our sales rep had in her possession, and I wasted no time in begging her to be next in line to read it.  So tonight I will be taking to bed with me the bound manuscript of Ms Poehler's new book and God bless my husband for donning a sleep mask so that I can read into the wee hours next to him, without disturbing him.

You betcha, Amy!

This week was also, as I mentioned, a banner week for Odyssey staff profiles.  My coworker, Hannah Moushabeck, the indefatigable and wondrous woman who runs our children's department, was profiled in Publishers Weekly.  NBD.  Hannah is amazing, y'all.  I've never, and I mean NEVER, met a bookseller who could match her in energy, and the way she interacts with the bubbliest of babies to the surliest of teens is a sight to behold.  Also, she has "glitter consultant" on her resumé, for which I shall evermore be envious. Check out what PW has to say about her here.

In the meantime, Jen Campbell from the blog This Is Not the Six Word Novel interviewed me about Odyssey Bookshop as part of the lead-up to the publication of her new book on bookshops. Some of her questions were fun, but some of them were challenging to answer.  How do you sum up your bookstore in only three words? How can someone even as verbose as I am try to tell you what books and bookstores mean to me?  You can read all about my bookstore (and me, kinda) here.

This week I also had the amazing opportunity to have dinner with Jodi Picoult, along with about six other booksellers, plus another half dozen librarians from New England, plus a goodly number of people from the New York offices of Random House.  The downside is that I had to drive a total of five hours to participate in the 3-hour dinner at Paci in Southport, CT, but in the end, it was totally worth it.  I got to meet some nifty folks and eat some really excellent food (OMG, the insalata di anguria), but I also got to tell the author of a book I loved how much it meant to me.  I've read a good number of Picoult's books before, and I've liked a fair number of them, but none of those could have possibly prepared me for the depth of emotional connection I felt to this book.  I will post a review of the book later, but it's my hope that Leaving Time will do for elephants what the documentary Blackfish has done for captive cetaceans. 

Last but certainly not least, I got a bit of bookish swag in the mail this week.  Remember when I hosted that readalong for Caitlin Moran's new novel, How to Build a Girl? You don't? Really?  Well, you should really get out more. Anyway, as a thank you for generating lots of good pre-publicity buzz for the book, HarperCollins sent me this groovy t-shirt and mug.  (The photo shows two mugs because that's how you can see the whole design, but I only have one.)  I kinda love that my husband wants to keep the mug for himself to use at work -- he teaches at a women's college. 

Seriously, how great is this t-shirt?

Yup, it was a pretty good week.  Thank you, Julie and Hannah, for being awesome!  Thank you, Random House, for inviting me to all the cool clambakes!  Thank you, HarperCollins, for the absolutely nifty book swag.  *Mwah* to all of you!

Bizarre Customers: Face-Palm Installment

Ugh, it's been one of those weeks again.  I've got two coworkers out this week, which means I'm spending more time on the sales floor, less time at my desk.  This could be why there seems to be a proliferation of bizarre customer interactions this week.  Now you, too, can delight in my experiences because I will share them with you.  Sharing is caring. Isn't that what they say?

Man: Hi, I'm here to see Nancy about selling used books.
Me: Yes, she's in her office.  Do you need help bringing in your boxes?
Man: No, I just have the one book to sell her.
Me: Okay, I'll page her...[talks to Nancy]...She'll be here in a minute
Man:Oh.  Should I go get my book?
Me: You don't have it with you?
Man: No, it's in my car across the street.  Do you think I should go get it?
Me: No, that's okay.  Nancy specializes in buying invisible books.  No need for her to actually see it.

Lady on phone: Yes, I'm looking for recent published books for my book club to read.  They can't be longer than 250 pages.
Me: Do you have any preference for content, as long as the length of the book meets your requirements?
Lady: No. We just don't want to get bogged down in long books.  Anything is fine.  What would you recommend?
Me: Well, The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman is quite short.  It's even less than 200 pages, and it's pretty new.
Lady: That's a strange name for a book.  And it might be too short.
Me: Okay. Um, how about The Illusion of Separateness by Simon Van Booy? It's just over 200 pages and it's brand new in paperback.
Lady: That title sounds familiar.  I think we may have read that one already. What's it about?
Me: It's about several characters, separated by time and place, set over the course of several decades, and eventually the reader discovers what connects these characters who seem quite separate on the surface. It's only been out in paperback for a couple of weeks.
Lady: Well, that doesn't sound familiar, but I still think we read that one already.
Me: How about The Orphan Train? It's just over 250 pages, and it's been out about a year already, but I've heard back from various book club members that it was great.
Lady: What is that one about?
Me: It's based on the period of US history when orphans were removed from urban centers like Boston and New York and sent west on trains to be adopted by families.  Their stories were often full of hardship, as more often than not, they were put to hard work by the families.
Lady: That sounds too sad.
Me: Well, what kinds of books does your book club usually read?  I've got some lighter fare, but they're all around 300 pages.
Lady: [with great exasperation] No, I told you: no more than 250 pages.
Me: And nothing sad?
Lady: Are you making fun of me?
Me: No, ma'am.  But maybe if you came in to the store I could put together a stack of books for you to look at.
Lady: No, that's too much work.  I'll just see what Amazon recommends. Thank you for your help.

Lady: I'm looking for a chapter book for a four year old boy.
Me: Great, let's look over here.  Is he reading already? Or are you looking for something that someone else can read aloud to him?
Lady: Reading aloud--maybe a couple of chapters each night before bedtime.
Me: *Shows her various books from different series: Tashi, Ninja Meerkat, My Weird School, Magic Tree House, Heroes in Training, Lulu & the Brontosaurus, etc*
Lady: The pictures in these aren't very good.  I'm afraid he'll get bored.  Don't you have any picture books?
Me: Yes, we have a very nice selection of picture books.  Would you like to see those instead of the chapter books?  They won't have as much text in them, so you won't be able to stretch them out over the course of several nights.
Lady: No, I want to see your section of chapter picture books.
Me: Well...we have a number of graphic novels, but they're written for older kids, so there's chance the content won't be appropriate for a four year old.  Maybe Zita the Spacegirl? Or the Lunch Lady series?
Lady: No, I don't want him reading those comic books.  I don't like those.  What else do you have?
Me: [!!!]  Well, perhaps you'd prefer browsing our picture books, but as I said, they don't have chapters. [Shows her a variety of picture books]
Lady: These picture books don't have many words.
Me: [Thinking: you complete and utter idiot]. Here, try Skippyjon Jones. It's got more words.
Lady: Hmmm...too many words, I think.

Me: [Aside: like that scene from the movie Amadeus! "Too many notes."] Ummm...okay.Well, how about a wordless picture book? That way the four year old can "read" the story to you. [Shows her the beautiful picture book, Journey.]
Lady: Perfect!
Me: [Aside: so basically you wanted the complete opposite of what you said you wanted. Great. Thanks for wasting my time.]  Can I gift wrap that for you?

Lady: Hi, I'm looking for a book recommendation.  What should I read?
Me: Well, what are you in the mood for?  Escapist? Funny? Literary? Plot driven? Mystery? Romance?
Lady: I mostly like nineteenth century literature.  I love Dickens.
Me: Okay, let me go through our classics and see what you've not read yet.
Lady: Oh, I don't want a classic.  I want something new that reads like a classic.
Me: Great!  How about Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch?  "Dickensian" is often an adjective used to describe it.  Or maybe The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton.  They're both novels that have won major literary prizes.
Lady: Hmmm...No, I don't think so.  Those are too long.
Me: Okay, then.  How about The Orchardist by Amanda Coplin? It's got a 19th century sensibility to it.  Or maybe something from Sarah Waters?  She's a terrific writer, and some of her books are set in the Victorian era.  She's a writer who, like Dickens, pays attention to class and social issues.
Lady: That doesn't sound very interesting.
Me: [In other words, someone who is reminiscent of your own favorite writer isn't very interesting?]  Yes, well, perhaps you could give me a bit more to go on.
Lady: I don't have any more time to browse. I'll just take this. *grabs a Dan Brown paperback off the rack.*
Me: WTF? Yes, clearly a Dan Brown thriller and Dickens have everything essential in common.

Stop wasting my time. Stop wasting your time, for that matter. If you *want* a thriller, then just say so.  Heavens, I'm not going to judge you for wanting to read a thriller.  Or a romance.  Or YA.  Or whatever. I like to read Dan Brown, too, but generally not when I'm in the mood for Dickens.  I like to read many things, like romance and YA and essays and memoirs and travel books and really, almost anything with a narrative. That's why I work in a bookstore -- I like to read and I'm good at my job, and I want *you* to be reading, and I want you to be happy with your choice. But for the love of all that is holy, just SAY what kind of book you're looking for.  Otherwise we'll both just get frustrated.

Fun With Spam!

Image found here

Okay, so perhaps I'm stretching it a bit too far here, but I've never done one of those posts that talks about the statistics on my blog hits, or the curious terms people type into search engines that lead to my blog.  Seems like the blogosphere was all a-buzz with posts like that a couple of years ago. But the other day I got the most bizarre spam comment and thought it was too funny not to share. 

Most spam that I get has a few key search words included for whatever product it's pushing: shoes, enhancement pills, medical marijuana, etc. You know, the words that search engine optimization (SEO) has dictated would be best.  But this one?  It's ALL over the place.  This spammer wants to promote fashion and health and sex and performance and goodness knows what else:

"the reasons for being bouncing, umpteen family line subscribed. witness daring slipway to prevent search too "fancy." Buy a seed submarine, and buy multiples of it. You don't requirement their currency when purchasing an component part. mostly, you ordain be feat the incomparable products that youthat knowledge trades without emotion Michael Kors Bags; , assertable if your kid a fiddling sonorous for just about excellent online-buying advice you can crumble those for a base security interest loan. This is one of the chemical, such as its bearing expands. If you've successful online are passably unwashed-judgement poppycock. roughly of these styles in either the subjugate on World Book Night: Givin' All Night Long!"

It's almost poetic, really.  Submarine? Sonorous? Unwashed judgement poppycock?  I kinda want to know the person who threw these words together.  In some ways it reminds me of Dumbledore: "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

What about y'all? Have you had a spam comment that was so fun or bizarre that it was worth commenting on?

Real Encounter or Punk'd? You Decide...

JLaw is shocked and appalled.  I think I am, too.    

Okay, y'all.  I had a conversation with a customer today that belongs in the hall of fame.  Or else I was punk'd.  I'm not sure which, but maybe you can help me decide. Please keep in mind that for the entire length of the conversation I was surrounded by small children and their parents because I was working in the kids section during a school break week.

Man: Yeah, hi, can you tell me if you have any New Age books? I've been reading a lot of New Age books recently and I'd like to see what you have.

Me: Well, we have a very limited selection in store, and it might not be worth a trip to the store just for browsing what we have in stock.  Is there a particular author or title you might be interested in?

Man: You know, my mom started reading these books and passed them on to me.  It's a funny thing to think of your mom as reading books like that.  It surprised me what she was open to.

Me: Yes, well, reading can definitely expand one's horizons. Did you have a particular book in mind?

Man: My mom and I recently moved in together.  I don't have any certain title or anything, but the books that she's given me and that I've started reading are books that you could say opened up my mind about politics.  And lovemaking.  Yeah. I see the world differently now.

Me: (Assuming a *very* professional tone) I see. Well, I'd say we probably don't have the books on hand that you might be looking for, but I could always check our warehouse to see what could be ordered in for you.  Or you know, if you're open to to second hand books, there's an excellent store called Troubadour that is in the next town over.  I've not been there for a while, but the last time I was in, they had an extensive New Age section.

Man: Yeah, that might work.  You know, one of the things that really impressed me about these New Age books was how supportive and welcoming they are.  Like, what they say about lovemaking. They're very open about that. Like, it doesn't matter what society says.  A relationship is between two consenting adults, and if it's mutually loving, then nothing else matters... LONG PAUSE ...

Me: (Feeling *distinctly* uncomfortable now). Um, yes. The consenting part is quite essential and...

Man:...CONTINUING PREVIOUS THOUGHT...and so my mom and I are thinking of exploring our relationship...

Me: Cutting in, politely but EVER so firmly: Sir, as I said, I'd be very happy to order in a particular book if you're interested, but I'm afraid I must go.  You can call us or use our website for placing orders.

Man: Thank you for being so, um kind. I really appreciate it.

Me: You're welcome sir, and you have a good day. Bye now.

What just happened to me?  The man's voice was ringing with sincere desperation.  Or  desperate sincerity, I'm not sure which.  One of my coworkers who used to work at a big box store thinks that this was just some guy getting his rocks off.  I'm not so sure. And just which "NewAge" books are sanctioning incest these days? Gah, I just don't know what to think. I guess it's better for me to have treated it as real, even if it had been fake, than to treat it as fake with the off chance that it could have been a real customer. All I can say is that I deserved an adult beverage after responding to such a conversation in a consummately (er, bad choice of words?) professional manner. In front of children.  Without giving the game away to any customers in the store who happened to be listening to my end of the conversation.

Bookish Things & Bookseller Rants

If you've been a recent reader of my blog, you'd be forgiven for thinking that I write a travel blog and that's that. I don't mean to whine (at least not much), but life has been on the hard side for the last 5-6 weeks.  I've been working 10-14 day stretches at a time with precious little time off.  At home we've battled black mold, power outages, no hot water, no heat, no internet, all topped off with a little flooding in that same time period. We were without a washing machine or dryer for that entire period, so I've had to get a little creative when it comes to laundry. (Hint: that's code for "I washed my underwear in the sink and just kept wearing the same 4 pairs of jeans without washing them.")

And did I mention that my bookstore just celebrated its 50th anniversary?  That's a pretty big milestone for any business, peoples, but for an independent bookstore?  That's practically unheard of.  We had mad fun but it was insanely busy in the long run-up to it. We capped it all off with a 1960s dance party and it looked a lot like this:

Or maybe this:

It's been so long since I've written a book review that the task somehow seems too monumental to tackle right now, so I'm just going to share some bookselling things that have happened to me recently. They range from adorably delightful to a little odd to unspeakable rudeness:

Customer calls and wants to know if we can order a book that she wants to buy that she has checked out of the library.  I ask for the title.  She says, "Oh, I left the book in the other room.  Should I go get it?" No, that's okay.  I've got ALL DAY.  Let me just try to guess what it is.

-----------------------------------------

Customer calls before the store opens and leaves message on the store answering machine, wondering if we have a certain book.  I call him back about 15 minutes after the store opens and say no, we don't, but I can have the book here in two days if you'd like to special order it.  He says, "Well, that's just a terrible way to run a business." Confused, I ask him what he means.  He actually raises his voice and say, "I shouldn't have to leave a message just to see if you have a book.  When I call Barnes & Noble, I get a real person to talk to." I try to explain that he called after hours.  He says, "Oh, no I didn't!  I called at 9:15 this morning and I had to leave that message." "Sir," I explain, "the store doesn't open until 10:00."  LONG pause. "Well, then I guess that makes me the terrible one," he chuckles.

Most upset customers don't recognize if they're ever in the wrong, so I really appreciated his saying that.  "Well, I'd say 'terrible' is putting it a little too strongly, sir," was my reply and he laughed. And then he ordered the book.

------------------------------------------

Customer on phone: Can you get me X book?
    Me: No, I'm afraid that book is out of print, but we have somebody on staff who does those searches. Shall I have her take a look and call you back?
Customer, worried: Oh, dear.  I have to leave the house for a while.  I'd hate for her to be offended by leaving a message.  I have an answering machine.  Do you think that would be okay?
   Me: Yes, of course.
Customer: Are you sure she won't be offended?
  Me: Yes, quite sure.

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For our store's 50th anniversary, we gave away over $50 worth of books & goodies every hour at the :50 minute mark (get it?). We even let people decide whether they wanted a grab-bag of books for adults or children. One woman who won opted for a kids bag, but she called back the next day, quite irritated and asked if she could return them.  When asked what the problem was, she said that one book was too old for her 5-year-old son (the $40 Mo Willems book called Don't Pigeonhole Me) and that the other ones her son wouldn't be interested in because they were about a girl.  Never mind that it was a complete set of Madeline books in hardcover. In other words, picture book classics. We asked if maybe her son had a friend to share the books with, but nope. The woman said if she couldn't return them to us that she'd just throw the books away.  Excuse me?

It is the height of rudeness to call and complain about the free books that you've won, and in this instance it's an extreme case of gender bias. I mean, heaven forbid we encourage our children to read anything that doesn't reflect themselves back in the pages. But to then threaten to just throw those books away?

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But not all of my customer stories are quite so ugh. One of them is, as promised, adorably delightful. A father and his little girl walk into my store for the first time.  When the father asks if we have a children's department, we direct him to the lower level.  There's an interior stairway connecting the floors, with a landing in the middle, from which one can see the kids' department sprawled out below.  When the little girl reached the landing and saw all of the books and games, she gasped, "Oh, this is my paradise!" Except she was young enough to still have a slight lisp, so it came out, "Oh, thith is my paradithe!" I'm sure if I'd ever wanted children I would have wanted to take her home with me. 

She might not have been as cute as this panda ball, but it was close...

How about y'all?  What interesting bookish and/or work stories do you have to share?

Bookstore Rants: Lady, you CRAZY

It is a truth universally acknowledged that an encounter with a  crazy customer must be in want of a blog post.  

If you have ever worked with the public sector, particularly in retail, then you know that the holiday season is a time when the crazy customers come out in full force.  If they're not demanding to know why we don't carry swimming goggles (Hello? We're a bookstore? True story!), they're contributing to the eventual incarceration of their children when said children finally get retribution for crazy parents, or they're making me wonder why they're shopping for Shakespeare when they clearly don't even know their ABCs, for Pete's sake! 

Ahem.  Sometimes I let myself get a little carried away.  I had a customer this week who, while being perfectly pleasant, actually said one of the most asinine book-related things I've ever heard.  To wit:

Customer: I'm looking for a picture book for a child, but it has to be real. 

Me: Do you mean you're looking for a work of non-fiction? 

Customer: No, I want a story picture book for children, but I want it to be real.  Nothing fake.

Me: Do you mean, like nothing in the fantasy realm?

Customer: Well, yes, I don't want that, but I also want to make sure that everything that happens in the book is a real-life thing. Nothing made up. Nothing that couldn't happen in real life.

Me:  Hmmm...let me see...what about the new Jan Brett book called Mossy?  Our children's buyer tells me that Jan Brett was inspired by a real-life tale involving a similar turtle. 

Customer: Well, that might be okay, but you see that picture on the cover? That would never happen in real life.  A garden just wouldn't grow on a turtle's back like that. 

Me: Well, not strictly speaking, no. 

Customer: I just think imagination is dangerous for children. They need things that are real. 

Me: I'm sorry, you lost me at IMAGINATION IS DANGEROUS FOR CHILDREN. Get thee behind me, Satan!

Bookstore Rants, or Lady, You Crazy!

I've been sitting on this blogpost for a few days, wanting to calm down a bit before sitting down to skewer a particular parent I interacted with at the store earlier this week.  Our store is in a pretty smartsy-artsy-fartsy (you like that term?  I just made it up) area, where the population density of people who hold PhDs is higher than average.  Probably much higher than average but I'm not about to spend time researching figures or anything like that.  But anyway, because of where our store is located we're pretty used to parents who come in to buy books for their little darlings who learned to read in utero and are basically culturally sophisticated geniuses who excel in sports, languages, sciences and arts, all in equal measure, and do we have any books that might be good enough for them?

I'm sure you know the kind of parents I mean.  Sure, these parents are tiresome and apparently blind to the fact that their children are frequently nasty little shits in desperate need of a good spanking meaningful time out.  But these parents are completely grounded in reality compared with a mother I was dealing with the other day.

Mommy Dearest: (to me) I'm buying the last book in the Eragon series for my high school daughter because she just loves it, but I need suggestions for my other brilliant daughter. She's nine but she reads on a high school level, so I need a book that will challenge her but also be age appropriate.  (to daughter): Why don't you start looking at the books?

Lowly Bookseller: I understand completely.  Let's take a look over h...

MD (interrupting me): We don't have a television, you understand.  My children have all been readers from a very early age, which is why I've got one daughter at [insert Seven Sisters college here] and another applying to [insert Ivy League college here].  My youngest, though.  She just gets it in her head sometimes that she wants to read something but I won't have her filling her head with crap.  Not like what my students read.  She's better than that.

LB: Uh-huh.  Why don't we look at these books right he...

MD (interrupting again): And don't even get me started on graphic novels.  They're such trash--I can't believe she keeps trying to read those Wimpy Kid books at school. I'd like to give a piece of my mind to the creators of these so-called graphic novels...

LB (hah--interrupting her!): Well, actually, there are lots of great graphic novels, and one that sells well to both children and adults is this retelling of Homer's The Odyssey.  Since your daughter enjoyed the Percy Jackson books, she might enjoy learning more about the classics.

MD (looking down her nose): I don't think so.

LB (to the daughter directly): Sweetie, what others books have you liked besides the Percy Jackson ones?

Downtrodden daughter:  Harry Potter, Emily Windsnap, books about animals, books with f...

MD (interrupting AGAIN): She definitely didn't like those Series of Unfortunate Events books

DD: I thought they were pretty good

MD (to DD): No you definitely didn't like them. And they're too young for you anyway.  (To me):  What else do you recommend?

LB: Well, if you like fantasy stories with strong girl characters, I'd suggest maybe Madeleine L'Engle for a classic or maybe The Emerald Atlas, which is more fantasy-adventure and more modern.  For animal lovers, A Ring of Endless Light is a magical read with all of the dolphins in it, but A Wrinkle in Time is also great--it was a Newbery award winner that pairs well with a recent winner, When You Reach Me.  They both feature smart girls dealing with confusing times in their lives, plus they learn about time travel.

DD: The one with the dolphins sounds pretty good...

MD (to daughter): No, you won't like that one, I don't think.  Too old-fashioned.

DD (to mom): But I like dolphins.

MD (to daughter): No, I said you wouldn't like it.  Keep looking for something else. (To me): What about that Atlas book?  What's it about?

LB: It's a wonderful fantasy adventure about three siblings who are orphaned but come to discover some amazing things in their new ho...

MD (she's the interruptingest!): Orphans?  No, that sounds too much like those other books, those Unfortunate ones.

LB (losing patience): Actually, they're nothing at all alike.  Yes, they are both about siblings who are orphaned, but beyond that they're much more fantastical, with homages to C. S. Lewis, Tolkien, Susan Cooper, and even Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

MD: You mean they're derivative?  I don't want her to read anything derivative.

LB (frustration showing through the cracks): No, actually, I don't mean derivative.  I mean that it uses similar tropes from classical fantasy series in a way that pays homage, but still creates a wonderful story for a young reader to get lost in.  If you don't want books that are derivative and poorly written, you should reconsider that Paolini book for your older daughter.

MD (slightly taken aback): Well.  I didn't mean to offend you.  I just have high expectations for my daughter.  (to daughter): Did you find anything?

DD: This one looks good.  I read the part on the inside cover and then I started reading the first chapter and I really like it.

MD (to daughter): Were there at least six words you didn't know in the chapter?

LB (to mother): Well, if she's reading on a high school level, there's a good chance that she'll know all of the words in this book.  But it's from a very reputable and literary publisher of children's bo...

MD (interrupting again): No, I don't think she'll like this.  She only thinks she will because she's read a little of it so far, but I know her better.

LB (to myself): WTF, lady?  How can you possibly stand there with a straight face, full of righteous indignation, and talk over your child and tell her that you know better, just by looking at the cover of a book, about what she likes to read? You're a monster and a nightmare and I can say these things in a blogpost later, which will make me feel better, secure in the fact that, like Miss Elizabeth Lefoldt in The Help, you'll never recognize yourself.

LB (dejectedly): How about The Mysterious Benedict Society?  Do you think you she would like that?

The lady kept apologizing for her daughter's "talking back" and bad behavior.  I wanted to hold a mirror up to her instead.  She was clearly insane.  And what's more, because it wasn't a school day, there were a handful of children in our kids' area, sprawled out on bean bags and reading graphic novels (mostly Wimpy Kid books, but some of the Origami Yoda/Darth Paper ones, too) while she was talking about how trashy and beneath her daughter they were.

So, gentle readers, have you ever encountered such an overbearing parent, in either a personal or professional capacity?  I've read about them, of course, but dealing with one in person AND still providing good customer service was a difficult row for me to hoe.  

Bookstore Rants

Not my image. Found at JustforScientists.com

Okay, okay, I know that everybody who has ever worked in retail can lay claim to outrageous/stupid/offensive customer stories and that booksellers have no corner on this market, but this morning I wanted to share with you a few recent encounters I've had that might make you smile.

Scenario I

Woman: I'm looking for a bestseller I read about?  [NB: She used upspeak, indicated by the question marks I'm using for her]

Me: Do you know the title or author?

Woman: No, I can't remember?

Me: That's okay.  Just tell me what it's about and I'll bet I can pinpoint it. 

Woman: Umm, it was about these children and then they grew up?

Me (in my head): So, that covers roughly 75% of all of fiction then. Are you an idiot?

Me (out loud): Hmmm, can you be a bit more specific than that?

Woman: I think they were boys?

Me (in my head): Yup, definitely an idiot!

Me: (out loud): Do you remember where or when you heard about this book?

Woman: I think it was in the newspaper a few years ago. 

Me: Can you give me anything else to go on? 

Woman: No, not really

Me: Was it The Kite Runner? It's about two boys in Afghanistan who then grew up. But in different places and under vastly different scenarios. 

Woman: Maybe.  That doesn't sound very good.

Me (pulling hair out): Why don't I just make a few suggestions for you, then?

Scenario II

Woman: I'm looking for that book about cancer.

Me: Could it be The Emperor of All Maladies, the book about cancer that just won the Pulitzer Prize?

Woman: No, I don't think so.  It's old.

Me: Is it a health book or informational books that tells you about cancer and how to live with it?  Is it a novel?  A memoir? 

Woman: I don't know if it's a novel or memoir

Me: Can you tell me a bit more about it? 

Woman: This woman got diagnosed with cancer and then her friends were sad. 

Me (in my head): So basically every book about cancer, ever written?  

Me (out loud): Anything else you can tell me?  That's still pretty broad

Woman: No, I don't remember anything else

Me: How 'bout I just make some great book suggestions for you, then?

Scenario III

Woman walks into the shop.  She's standing between a large stuffed giraffe with a yellow hat (as in The Man with the Yellow Hat) and a shelf of picture books and toys: Do you have a children's department? 

Me: Why, yes.  Yes we do!

Woman: Where is it? 

Me: Ummm, you're standing right in the middle of it.  

For reference, she was standing between here: 

4' tall giraffe with Yellow Hat (photo from store's website)

And here:

Our hard-to-spot children's department (photo from store's website)

It's too long to include here again, but I happen to have a post for Scenario IV that involved a woman looking for Shakespeare who apparently doesn't know her ABCs.  You can read it here if you'd like.

Which came first--the ABCs or Shakespeare?

(not my image--found online)

Yesterday was one of those nightmare retail days when the bizarro customers crawled out of the woodwork.  I'm not sure if Jupiter was misaligned with Mars, or if folks were just anticipating the next full moon, or if something was in the water, but every single one of us working at the counter had a customer tale to tell.  Here's mine:

Woman (while walking downstairs to the fiction & children's department): Hello?!  Is anybody there who can help me?  Hello?

Me (from behind the counter. You know, where I'm supposed to be): Yes, I'm right here.  What can I do for you?

Woman (looking around): Oh, there you are.  I'm in a rush.  Where is your Shakespeare section?

Me (walking around the counter to show her the exact shelf): It's right over here, arranged alphabetically by title.  Which one are you looking for?

Woman: Oh, it looks like he wrote a lot.  I don't know -- what do you recommend? 

Me: Well, are you thinking a comedy, tragedy, or one of the histories?  Or maybe you're looking for his sonnets?

Woman:  Oh, I think a history.  Do you have Hamlet?

Me: Well...yes, many people would say that if you're only going to read one Shakespeare play, Hamlet would be the one.  But it's not technically a history--it's a tragedy.

Woman: I thought it was history.

Me: Well, it certainly took place a very long time ago, so in that case I suppose you could call it historical, but it's definitely a Shakespearean tragedy.  Not based on actual history like his historical plays. 

Woman: Oh.  Well, I definitely want history.  What do you recommend?

Me: Well, I personally like Henry V, but it's the last book in a tetralogy, so maybe you'd like to begin with the first one, which is Richard II, which continues with Henry IV, Part 1 and Henry IV, Part 2.

Woman: Ummm, I'll take Henry.

Me: Okay, which one?  Do you want to start with the first one, just take the last one, or do you want all three?

Woman: What about the middle one?

Me: Well, I personally wouldn't recommend starting with Henry IV, Part 2 because it would put you in the middle of things, but yes, you could do that. 

Woman (kneeling on floor in front of shelf): I'll take all of them.  Where are they?

Me (standing a little behind and to the side of her, peering over her shoulder): They're arranged alphabetically by title on that shelf.

Woman:  I don't see them.  Where are they?

Me: They're right there, under H.

Woman: Where's the H?

Me (tempted desperately to say, "It's usually after the G but before the I"):  Ummm...move your hand to the left a little.

Woman (pulling a book off the shelf): Is this it?

Me: Actually, that's Hamlet. Here, let me get down there and grab them for you. [I kneel down, grab three and stand up again, handing them to her.]

Woman: Are you sure these are the right ones? They all seem to look alike.

Me: Well, yes, they're all published by Pelican, so this edition will have a pretty uniform look to it.  But see, here on the front cover you can see the titles, and then if you turn the book sideways, you can see the titles on the spines, too.  [Glancing around to see if anybody else is witnessing this insanity. Hoping that maybe she's buying these as a gift for somebody else...] Would you like me to giftwrap these?

Woman: No, they're for me.  I'll just take them upstairs to buy, okay? 

Me (to my coworker, after the coast is clear): WOW.  Just wow.

Coworker (holding back laughter): Well, when I walked in, you did say it was shaping up to be one of those days!

Okey-dokey.  So, maybe this is a totally radical notion, but it seems to me that anybody who buys Shakespeare for herself should already have a working knowledge of, oh, the alphabet.  I'm just sayin'. 

Methinks she was an artless, idle-headed strumpet!

Things that make you go hmmmmm...