The Path of the Bookseller

It’s not often that I spot a new annoying customer behavior in the wild, but one I encountered today was worth noting.

The customer came to the information desk, dressed in a floor length fur coat, her perfectly set silver hair peeking out from beneath her pillbox hat (apparently not leopard skin). She clutched a scribbled note listing three books that she hoped that I could find. None of them were difficult: she wanted American Lion, “that Goodwin book about Lincoln”, and “something Horses”, which we quickly confirmed was Per Petterson’s Out Stealing Horses. We headed across the store to the History and Fiction side to get them.

I first nabbed the copy of American Lion. When I handed it to her, she put on a broad smile that didn’t engage her eyes and yipped, “Good boy!”

I did a double-take, and convinced myself that I had misheard her.

I then got her Goodwin’s Team of Rivals. Her reaction was the same: same smile, same yip, “Good boy!”

This was unmistakable, and maddening on all sorts of levels. Primarily, it was a clear class issue. Age wouldn’t have been a factor, since I am only a dozen years or so younger than she is.

Clenching my teeth, and making sure that I had turned my back to her as I rolled my eyes, I got her the final book. And, as I expected, the identical “Good boy!” again. And then, without a “Thank you” or any other communication, she spun away from me and glided to the registers.

As this went on, I took refuge in silently repeating my mantra: “I am so blogging this… I am so blogging this…”

She left. And looking back at her I thought, “Damn: all that, and she didn’t even offer me a biscuit!”