Book Shop

For the first time in my life I felt strange walking into a book shop. The Used and New to You Book Shop was located on Main Street between Rinaldi’s Pizza and the Greenery Bar where all the local college kids came to drink and mate on Saturday night.


I had never sold a book before. I was used to buying books, reading them sooner or later, and letting them collect on shelves as representations of my collective works of knowledge. I still had my first college text books… A Survey of Astronomy, Introduction to Statistics, Psychology: An Introduction, and some stupid math book. I felt like I was sinning as I talked to the owner Jake, a slightly more than 50 man with a balding head and a goatee retained from days of love ins and sharing joints with idealistic friends in the sixties. I need to sell some books I said. He looked up at me and I could almost see pity in his eyes which made my guilt even stronger.


I rubbed my forehead and turned down my eyes. I was not used to being a part of the over-educated, out-of-work poor. My stomach rumbled and my hunger brought back my resolve to divest myself of that which I could not eat. Better to sell a book to pay a bill then burn a book in the fireplace to keep warm.


Let me see what you have, he said.


I lifted up two heavy shopping bags and Jake methodically checked them over. He placed them carefully in stacks according to some system only he was aware of and finally after what seemed like an hour, looked up at me and said: Do you want cash or credit? I cleared my throat nervously, and replied: Cash.


Seventy-Five cash or a hundred twenty five in credit… sure you don’t want credit?


I shook my head. He opened the cash box and handed me 3 twenty dollar bills, a ten and five ones. I took it, walked out, and head lowered, went down the street to the A & P and bought some cheap white bread, a pound of bologna, some instant coffee, and some generic dry cat food for Lucky.


What was that my dad said: Get an education. They can never take that away from you.


Well, tomorrow I will have to apply for welfare. I think Jake and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other. I wonder if a stupid old math book that is 10 years old has any value rather than sitting on my bookshelf reminding me that my life or perhaps all of reality is just the proof of Voltaire’s quip that God is a cosmic joker with an audience that refuses to laugh.