Tales from the Bookstore

The Blank Books Lady

One slow night I was scanning the science fiction section, which happens to be near the blank books and journal section, when a lady in her mid-40's comes in. She was a little overweight with stringy blonde hair and a few missing teeth and projected an air of possesing a little less than the average intelligence.

She walks over to the journals and blank books and looks around. Then she picks one up and looks at the inside front cover where a poem was printed in scripted font. I was standing nearby so she asked me to come over and help her read the poem.

I was a little startled by this but I gave the lady the benefit of the doubt. After all, the font could be hard to read if your eyesight was bad, so I came over and helped her read the poem. Afterwards she stared, bewildered, at the book for a good couple of minutes. Finally she spoke.

"So what are you supposed to do with this? Do you write about the poem and then send it to the author [of the poem]."

I stared. Blinked. Wondered if I had heard her right. Recovered.

"Ma'am, you don't have to. You can write about whatever you want and keep if for yourself..." And explained the concept of journaling. Something, as I continued to learn that evening, not everybody knows or understands.

I don't know if she had heard me or not because she then said, "Oh, I see! You send it to the author and she writes something in it."

I wanted to shout at her, 'haven't you been listening to me!?" I didn't, of course, but the temptation was there. I explained again how journals were for journaling, for private thoughts, etc, in simple terms.

Luckily she put that journal back. When I went to ring her up she gave me an almost hour long monologue on her purse, how it was to small, why bigger purses were better and the varity of things she kept in her purse.