SPOILER ALERT: If you recorded Grey's Anatomy, The Black List or Scandal and have not yet watched the programs, skip the first paragraph
What a night of television. I feel like I've been put through the ringer. First there was Derrick Shepherd, Dr. McDreamy himself, all heroic in saving three people in an auto accident, only to be hit by a giant truck, bleeding all over the place taken to the wrong hospital, and then Meredith having to agree to pull the plug. As if that wasn't bad enough, The Blacklist starts with Reddington being shot and rushed off to a secret location bleeding throughout the episode while hoards of armed men try to shoot him. At one point I thought he was going to pull a Jack Bauer, pulling tubes out of his body, gripping a gun, and mowing 'em all down. They are still trying to kill him. And then from there I watch Scandal which begins with Huck punching Jake in the chest to revive him, when they thought he was dead, then lots of blood trying to bring him back to life. He bleeds throughout the episode while there is shooting and more blood everywhere and Rowen is still trying to kill them all. After 3 hours of non-stop bleeding, I almost need a transfusion. God. I need an hour of Teletubbies or Hello Kitty or something!
OK. On to Logos. It was nice to have a chat with Sandy for about 30 minutes, during which time I rang up three customers. Things looked promising for the afternoon. About the time Sandy was leaving a zaftig woman in a lovely flowing chiffon dress came in, looked around for about 10 seconds, and left.
A comfortably dressed woman in jeans, a baggy grey shirt and Birkenstocks looked around for awhile and then finally bought one bargain book. At the same time, a man in a white pony tail was looking through the bargain books too, but never came into the store.
A nice young man came in looking for music. He managed to find a very thick encyclopedia of music and musicians for only $8 and a score for a piano work. He was talking to me about jazz and how jazz arrangements have changed these days, so when I mentioned that Jeri taught composing and arranging, he asked me to ask her about I think it was "rootless melody." But I could be remembering that wrong
A woman wanted to know where to buy a photo album and I gave her some suggestions.
A grey haired woman with a rainbow colored backpack and walking with a cane moved around the store so quietly that every time I looked down and looked up again, she had disappeared and reappeared in some other part of the store. She left the store without buying anything, then rummaged through the bargain books, and ultimately left without buying anything.
A guy in a painter's hat (but not Bruce) checked out comedy and then language books. He heard me sniffle and asked if I had allergies. We talked about how if you live in Davis long enough you eventually develop allergies. I sniffle so often year-round I never even notice it!
A young woman looking for Spanish books bought 3 novels (including a translation of a Jeffrey Deaver mystery) and was disappointed that we had such a small selection of Spanish books.
A guy bought two literature books, including "Babbit" and one other one I've forgotten.
My friend did not show up, for the second week in a row, during the 4-5 hour, but by 5 there were 3 customers in the store, the most at one time all day. A guy was looking for books on metaphysics, a woman in a safari hat was looking through literature and contemporary fiction and a woman in a salmon colored shirt and khaki pants carrying two bags (one might have been for some sort of electronic gadget). None of them bought anything.
But the next guy bought $55 worth of books, including the entire Little House on the Prairie boxed set, "Thus Spake Zarathustra" and another book by Nietzsche and a couple of history books.
ASIDE: This really bugs me. Every. Single. Customer, especially those with big stacks of books, always lays their books as far from me as they can. NOBODY ever hands me the books. The guy with the Little House books put them down and behind them the stack of other hefty books and I couldn't reach them at all. It's not like the desk is cluttered. There is nothing directly in front of me, but consistently for all the years I've worked there nobody ever moves the books to where I can pick them up without having to stretch way out to reach them. Some even place them so they are half on the desk and half off the desk, which puts them even farther from my grasp.
But it was a lucrative day, relatively speaking and I read more than half of a Dick Francis book I had not read before.
|What a notebook page for "Today at Logos" looks like.|