USED BOOK SALE...ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!

I heard about the used book sale at the library and planned on going.  I was looking forward to it until the morning of, when for some strange reason I found myself obsessing over it.  What had been something I was excited about for the past three weeks had suddenly turned into an anxiety-ridden thought, and I almost felt like there was a reason I shouldn't go.  Should I arrive early but wait in the car, or wait at the doors?  Should I carry with me the books I need to return and do that first when the doors open, or do it after I've already browsed the book sale?  Would it be better to be there first thing, or go later instead?  I didn't know why I was feeling anxiety.  I knew it wouldn't be a large book sale, being held in the small meeting room of the library.  Perhaps my anxiety was only due to the fact that I'd be disappointed over not finding anything I wanted.  I psychically scanned to see if that was going to be the culprit, but it didn't seem so.  My anxiety seemed to be coming from other people, as if I were feeling protective of something.

I arrive just ten minutes before the doors open and I see a very long line of people at one of the library's two front doors.  In typical human behavioral fashion, I stand at the end of the line even though I have no idea why there's a line in the first place.  I notice that most everyone has either one or two cardboard boxes or several large tote bags, and it doesn't take me long to realize that the reason for my apprehension and anxiety was due to the fact that this crowd who'd beat me here to the book sale wasn't here for the same reasons I was.  I was merely looking forward to taking my time browsing the books, reading the backs of many, and selecting only those that captured my interest.  Everyone else was here to shove as many books into their boxes and bags as they could for the sake of turning around and selling them at a higher price somewhere else.  Ugh.

I was instantly annoyed at this realization although pleased to solve the mystery of this morning's unusual anxiety.  The aggravating feeling I'd been sensing in my energy, I now knew, was because of all these people who'd also been excitedly planning on coming to the book sale, and their intention and my intention were definitely not in alignment.

The line kept forming long past me.  Of the two men directly behind me, the middle-aged one using walking canes that could barely help him ambulate was doing most of the talking between him and his younger buddy who didn't seem as gung ho to be there.  For the next several minutes he gave his buddy the detailed skinny of the art of used book selling with such haughtiness you'd think he'd invented it himself, which made me wonder why his younger friend didn't already know all this since they drove together.  Was he this guy's son and Pops was teaching him the family biz?

He pointed out that so-and-so was at the front of the line, and then ironically, so-and-so just happened to turn and notice them and began walking toward us.  "Are you here to find your fortune?" the (what's a nice way of saying crippled?) man called out to him cheerily, to which he replied he was doing the usual, just scouting out the sales.

Then ensued a brief monologue from annoying crippled cane guy (yeah, I'm not being nice anymore) about how such a small book sale sure had brought out a big crowd, but that's what happens when there are so few book sales this time of year until the bigger ones come in the summer, and how no one thinks spending four hours on the road is worth their while going down to the Springs on the chance they might not find enough bargains.  "I don't mind spending $300 if I know I'll make it back eventually and it stocks up my supplies for the long term, but I'll only do it if I think it's worth the effort."  The man from the front of the line was cordial, nodded and agreed, and then went back to the head of the line.  Then, to someone else in line, the gregarious man with the canes called out and uncreatively repeated, "Are you here to find your fortune?"  The other book dealer came over and shook his hand and then less enthusiastically replied "no" because he didn't expect to find anything good at such a small book sale.   But he requested that if they saw any art history books, could they grab them for him.  And after he went back to his spot in line, the man with the canes who was still talking nonstop said to his buddy, "Do you think all these people are finally catching on to what we've been doing for years?"  (Ok, at this point I wanted to grab one of his canes and beat his smug arrogance with it).

It took all the strength I had not to turn around and ask if it had ever occurred to them that some people just like to go and browse books, hoping to find something interesting to read because not everyone is a here to buy books to make a profit?  I was genuinely irritated to the point of shaking my head and biting my tongue so as not to say something to these guys.  I knew it wouldn't do any good.  By the looks of half the people in line dealing books was obviously what a lot of people do, but I felt sorry for the rest of us who had been naively excited about a little used book sale!

Once we got inside, I was also feeling sorry for the young mom who had her newborn in a stroller.  And the mom who had brought her preschooler.  And the much older man with one eye who had come only because his wife wanted to.  Once we were inside I saw why everyone had lined up outside.  The room was so small that it had an occupancy sign that said 73, and someone was clicking a counting device as we filed in.  Not everyone got in.

It was literally wall to wall people, save for the space being taken up by tables.  This was no fun at all.  I wasn't able to stand there reading each title and picking up books to read the jacket, let alone kneel down to go through the boxes of books underneath each table.

I was trying to move with the flow of the crowd and find a spot near a table (hard to do since I had to have my purse in front of me instead of behind me because every time someone passing me bumped into it, it almost knocked me backwards) but then someone stepped on my heel, suddenly freeing my foot from my shoe mid-motion of a step which nearly sent me airborne.  Had I not caught myself I wouldn't have gone far.  The nearest person to catch me was only 9 cm away.

The one-eyed man was lucky for being so tall.  He was able to stand in one spot and see over people's heads, but I had to systematically alternate between standing on my tippy-toes or leaning over to stick my head in between two other heads.

The young mother with the big baby stroller wasn't fazed, although I could tell that if she had known what this was going to be like she would not have brought her baby or the stroller with her.  But it wasn't until another woman carrying an armload of books tripped over one of the stroller's wheels that she decided to leave.  The load of books came directly down over the baby, whose mother fortunately caught them and shoved the books back into the other woman's arms.  The young mother didn't say a word but gave her a look that said "I so would have smacked the hell out of you if those books had hit my baby."  The other woman didn't say a word either but looked like she was thinking, "Wow that was close but it wasn't my fault."

This is too crazy, I thought.  I abandoned my hopes of a fun day of used book browsing for myself and decided to see if I could just get something for my daughter and get the heck out of there.  Abby had told me that if I saw any of the Hunger Games books to please get them for her, which I promised to do and to which I added that I'd channel my inner Abby and get her anything else I thought she'd like.  So I was determined not to leave this madhouse without at least something.

I managed to stand on my tippy-toes and found that the Teen section was all the way across the room, in the corner.  No one else was over there.  I squeezed myself through the crowd to the corner and immediately found the first two books to the Hunger Games series.  (Yay!  Small victory!)  I also grabbed Abby a couple other books I thought she might like.  I took the same way back through while worming my way to the front and bumped into the side of the tall, one-eyed man.  He was still standing in the same place he was before.  He reached his arm out around my head, so that my face was now in his armpit, and he grabbed his wife's arm and said, "C'mon, we're leaving!"  He was not happy.

I finally paid and left.  Later after school I brought Abby back as I assumed there wouldn't be a crown then, but much of the selection was gone.

As much as I love books, that's not something I'm going to do again.  I felt sorry for the older people in this community.  Coming to a used book sale where a book is a dollar is right up their alley; searching for books to buy on line from these vultures who jack up the price isn't.  Browsing shelves of books, seeing old ones you know or new ones you don't know, it's all part of the fun I was expecting to have until I found out it's been ruined by people taking advantage of an old and outdated pastime! I'm glad the library makes money that way, I know they need it, but I wished there was a way they could stop the vultures and just let people enjoy themselves.  Then again, that's what the library is for.  (Except for me.  The three-week checkout isn't enough time and I always have to recheck my books out.  Plus, books hold energy.  If I enjoy reading a book I also enjoy the energy I felt while reading it, and so I want to keep it.  Is that just me??)  After I left I happened to run into Mom, who'd just checked out some books.

"What's going on over there?" she asked me.  I told her about the vultures but that at least I got some books for Abby, and she said she just wanted to check out some books before the big snow storm heading our way tomorrow.  Mom said she doesn't like buying books, where would she put them all?  That made me chuckle.  I happen to love buying and having books.  I'll never get one of those electronic book readers.  Holding a book and turning the pages, there's just something about it. My favorites are those trade paperbacks, the soft cover books that are larger than the old pocket paperbacks, because they're easier to hold.  And books smell good too, you know?  They have that book smell that I love so much.

Well, there are still a couple good places I go to get good used books that isn't on line, where there are no vultures, and where I can stand browsing and reading book covers and taking my time.  And I'm not telling where they are.