The musky air and creaky floors of Book
Nook must seem old-fashioned to the average customer, but that doesn’t mean
there aren’t any regulars. A typical day consists of a few patrons, usually women
who could be anywhere from their late forties to early sixties, looking for
gifts or classic literature.
Mrs. Jensen, for instance, is a middle-aged woman with a penchant for
strong female protagonists in fiction: more so classic than contemporary. “Just
give me anything” she told me on my first day, “with female characters that
have more backbone than that flimsy Twilight
girl.”
Eyeing her more closely – blouse perfectly crisp, hair coiffed, lipstick
fresh – Mrs. Jensen did not look like someone who would ever pick up a copy of Twilight.
“My granddaughter loves the series,” she explained, reading my mind. “Such
a shame, considering the copy of Anne of
Green Gables I bought her for her twelfth birthday…”
“So you’re looking for a book for your granddaughter, then? Is she
interested in romance, adventure…?”
“Let me handle this,” Julia intervened. “It’s Anna-Kate’s first day,
she’s still learning the ropes around here. I’m sure we can find you
something…”
Thankfully, not all customers are quite as picky. Once I direct them to
their desired genre, most appear content to search on their own, leaving me to
unload new shipments and occasionally dust the shelves. Modern series, like Gossip Girl and my beloved Hunger Games, look very out of place in
a building as old and historic as this.
And so do my co-workers. There’s Eryn, who has a penchant for big
earrings and juicy gossip. Her opinions about anything and everything are as
loud and attention grabbing as her mountain of thick, brown curls. And then there’s
Morgan, her exact opposite, who is so quiet you forget she’s even there. If she
isn’t shelving books, she’s constantly checking Facebook on her phone when Julia
isn’t looking. Because Eryn talks enough for all of us, and Morgan barely
speaks at all, I can’t imagine becoming friends with either of them.
“I can’t stand that woman,” Eryn says once Mrs. Jensen leaves with a
copy of Persuasion. It wasn’t a
comment meant for anyone in particular to hear – certainly not Julia – but
being the closest to her at the time, I boldly ask “Why not?”
“She’s clearly repulsed by the so-called ‘loose morals’ of her granddaughter’s
generation, so she’s trying to ‘reform’ her by stuffing boring literature down
her throat.”
It’s probably a bad idea, but I
can’t help myself. “Uh, ‘loose morals’?”
“Oh, you know. Hooking up, sleeping around, whatever you want to call
it. Her grandkid may be a pre-teen, but I doubt she’s as naïve as that lady
thinks she is.” Her giant silver earrings clang like cymbals as she shakes her
head in disgust. “Just let the kid read Gossip
Girl or whatever she wants! At least those books are more realistic. Persuasion? Please.”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” intervenes Julia, “We work at a book store,
implying we know much about good books. You’d rather have that woman purchase Gossip Girl over Jane Austen, Eryn?
Seriously?”
Completely unfazed by however much the boss may have heard, Eryn simply
shrugs. “For her purposes, yes. She didn’t buy Persuasion because her granddaughter is an Austen fan. She’s
imposing her relationship values on her, because she can’t stand the fact that
her granddaughter’s mother is
unmarried.”
“How do you know that?” Julia asks, incredulous.
“Well, as much as I’d love to claim I know everything about our
regulars, Mrs. Jensen is a friend of my mother’s and goes to our church.” She
pauses, and then adds, “I mean my parent’s
church,” as if to clear up any misconceptions that Eryn might be a churchgoer
as well.
“I see.” Something tells me that Julia and Eryn have a tendency to clash
like this on a regular basis. If this is the case, I may take my cues from
Morgan, who has been silently shelving and re-shelving the children’s section this
whole time, and remain an unbiased observer.
This may
not be such a boring job after all.
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