Scenes from (Quimby's...only Quimby's) a Bookstore

Nice Customer: "Do you have a card?"

Therese: "Yeah tons for birthdays and congratulation and I even have a divorce one. Oh...business card? No. No I don't. I can write some info on this index card if you'd like?" 

Nice Customer "I couldn't find your phone number?" 

Therese: "Oh yeah well, I had a phone, and a number with it. But then I was like...what if people call and ask me stuff? And between you me and the Steinbecks, I hate phones. I think it's because my Dad installed an industrial ringer right above my bedroom when I was little...he had his reasons...anyway I realized they were awful and unplugged them, put them in a box and I don't know where they are now. Somewhere nice, I hope!" 

Nice Customer: "I'd like to buy this boo...why are you making that face?"

Therese: "I'm...not making...a face. I love it when people buy books. I'm privileged in fact!  It's not for me to judge. Just because I think you'd learn more about the Irish experience by gargling liquid Irish Spring than reading anything James Joyce upchucked into print doesn't mean you shouldn't buy this copy of The Dubliners.  (Similar interchange for F. Scott Fitzgerald, Faulkner, and most books that feature sexy aggressive queens who have dragons).

Nice Customer quietly to friend: "Have your read this one? It was...-"

Therese: (shrieking from across the room and bearing down at a run)  "THE BEST BOOK! OMIGOSH OMIGOSH. Hey! Oh man when the wife is like "hey I live here" and he's like "YOU'RE NOT MY WIFE" I was LIKE WHOA and then the subtext of emotional degradation represented by the hamster? I was like...I'M SO GLAD YOU READ IT. Oh I'm supposed to ask permission before hugging people in the store but we two SOULS ARE ONE NOW!"

Come to Quimby's, friends. We hate some stuff but we REALLY love you.