"...or some amazing little shop. like that second hand bookstore in NY that was around union sq somewhere. all those bukowski and harry crews books, and the ladders that you moved around and climbed up yourself to rifle through the top shelves (imagine that happening at waterstones or barnes & noble... they'd be so scared of litigation if someone fell or something, customers wouldn't be allowed within a five mile radius of a ladder). and the fat cat that just sat in the middle of the back room and regally watched the book browsers, and the other cat that twined itself round your ankles as you weighed up whether to buy those two william faulkner books (you didn't in the end as you figured it was only your third day in town and you should watch your money until you knew how the trip was going to play out). and the smell of the books, kind of dusty and musty and papery..."
So when I was here a couple years ago I came across an amazing little bookstore during my ramblings. Then I moved here last year and have been searching for it ever since, knowing vaguely where it was, but never quite remembering. The other day I stumbled across it again, emitted a squeak of excitement. Went in - it was as brilliant as I remembered. Higgledy-piggledy shelves and stacks, books in piles, in stacks, covering most surfaces, the whole place exuding a warmth of a mostly undiscovered gem. Then my well-trained eye caught sight of something in the far corner. The new Coupland that's not out till May or so. An advance copy. More squeaks of excitement and almost pulling down the shelf in my eagerness to get to it. And then I find the Dennis Cooper [whom, rightly or wrongly, I kind of worship]graphic novel. *Amazing*.
I knew there was a reason i'd been looking for this place for two years.
No comments:
Post a Comment