Hanging in Self Help

I'm a real book store junkie.  If I had my way, I'd be quite happy squandering all of my hard earned money on books, dining out, lip gloss, perfume and tropical vacations.  An earthly, perhaps shallow list, I'll admit; but it's the little things in life, is it not?  It's my long held belief that a small purchase such as lip plumper can be nothing less than life affirming, especially when one is feeling down in the dumps.

But my books are my true comfort; warm and fuzzy little dog-eared cronies who only grow better with age, even as they start to smell a bit funky.  Who am I kidding- especially as they begin to smell a bit funky!

I enjoy silently poking around a book store on my lunch break, escaping from a rainy afternoon and curling up on a warm radiator to read a few pages of something or other.  Right now I'm picturing the Barnes and Noble on Lexington Avenue...I'm not even sure if the one I'm thinking of in Boston has radiators by the windows to curl up on or not.  I must investigate that.  I certainly hope they do.

What's your favorite section of the book store or library?  I love fiction, but I'm often limited to authors I already know and love, thus having to wait around for their latest literary endeavor.  I know I shouldn't do this, but I'm a creature of habit.  More times than naught I find myself creeping over to the Metaphysical or Cook Book section. 

Analytical in my sunniest of moods, it's not surprising that some of my favorite authors reside in Self Help, which let's face it, is not really an aisle the cool kids loiter in.  What is more awkward than a sales clerk asking, "Finding everything alright?" when all I really long to ask is, "which way to Self Help?"  Inevitably, some tiny shred of self preservation stops me from uttering this. 

Not too long ago I eagerly pressed my copy of A New Earth onto Dad, though I'm fairly positive he won't read it.  Last week my yearning to once again have the book in my possession grew too great; and there I was in Borders, standing a touch too close to a man who smelled curiously of beef stew, staring at books on past lives, faeries, and others with titles like:

What Color is your Aura? 

Happiness for Dummies

and

Why is God Laughing?

I never did find Eckhart Tolle.  I think he hangs in the Metaphysical section anyhow.  I was sort of relieved when Hubby called and gave me an excuse to skedaddle, leaving beef stew guy to peruse to his spicy heart's content.

Happiness...is a book store.

Comments

[Weinerdog]

Picture it:
Borders bookstore.
Me looking for a book.
Williamsburg hipster/Borders employee asks if I need help finding anything.
I say "Yeah, I'm looking for a book".
Then I start laughing Hysterically.
Williamsburg hipster/Borders employee runs away.

God I love book shopping!

[the odd broad]

You are one in a million, weiner!