Category: bookshop

“Where have you put your “N’s?”
“N’s?”
“Yes, N’s” Customer gestures with one arm sweeping across the alphabetized fiction bay of L’s and M’s and, yes, N’s and O’s and P’s.
“There are no N’s,” he says crossly.
I go over and sweep my own arm across in a matching movement. I stop in front of…da dahhh, N.
“Here we are, N’s, just here.”
“Ah, right, thanks.”
“No problem.”

The name of an author of several popular guides to organic gardening is…
Bob Flowerdew.
Tee hee etcetera.

I had to work on the third floor yesterday, not somewhere I feel particularly comfortable as it exposes my awful gaps in knowledge about both geography and art.
A man came in and asked if I had anything on so and so’s dad. Having never even heard of so and so it was even less likely that I’d have a clue about his father. People do always assume that you will know exactly what they are talking about, but it simply isn’t possible. I rarely work on the third floor, and it has usually changed by the time I next go there. Anyway, being the good bookseller that I am I was able to establish this man’s identity, but it took a wee while, and I felt stupid that I hadn’t heard of him.
Fleeting pride was mine when someone else came and said they didn’t know what they were after, but it was an artist that had something to do with Mount Fuji, and I was able to ask if it might be Hokusai. It was, and the customer was impressed. Yay me, something seeped in during the years I worked at the museum.

I usually work on 1st, with the lovely fiction, where I am calm and useful and glad. Or the ground, where the best sellers and biography’s are. Or 2nd, with all the children’s books and health and sci-fi and crime and poetry. These things I can “do”.
The art section and I aren’t wholly compatible. The bay labelled “graphic art” is divided into many sub sections and when a book is sealed and has no words on its cover, and when the computer says simply that it belongs in graphic art, how the fuck am I supposed to know if it belongs with graffiti or packaging or any one of the many other headings?

Of course the coffee shop is on 3rd now, and I felt myself become irritated by the people plucking books from the shelves and strolling into the Costa where they sat, munching on their cookies and slurping their skinny lattes. I was morphing into one of those tutting uptight bitches. Suppressing the yell:
DON’T FUCKING READ THE BOOKS WITHOUT PAYING. WE ARE NOT A LIBRARY.

And breathe.

I amused myself by shelving books in the travel section and trying to guess the country. I am fairly rubbish at it, and shelving took a while. I guessed that one place was in Italy, then Spain, before discovering it is actually a Greek island. Ho hum. I haven’t learnt anything though because I can’t recall the name of it to write here.

So, that was my weekend really, fun huh?

“Why don’t you have a business section?”
“We do, it’s on the 4th floor.”
“I’ve just been up there, where exactly is it?”
“It’s on the 4th floor, on the left of the till point.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Erm, yes, it is.”
“It must be tiny then.”
“It’s quite substantial actually. Was there a particular book you were looking for? I can check on the computer and see if we have it in stock.”
“No, I want to browse.”
“Well, like I say, it’s up on 4th.”
“Where? There’s the coffee shop, and then the cookery books…”
“That’s the 3rd floor.”
“Oh. Right. There’s another floor is there?”
“Yes,” quietly “the 4th.”

Customer ( foreign, male, heavily accented voice) “Do you sell birthday cards?”
Me “Yes, just over there.” Gestures towards card racks.
A short time later.
Customer “Thank you.” He puts a card on the counter and holds up a pretty, pink bag.
“I have bought a present for my friends birthday, I show you.”
Me “OK.”
Customer “Look, look.” He pulls a box out of the bag. I can’t quite make out what he is showing me, then, ahh yes, it’s clearly a blow up doll.
Customer “Eh? Is nice? Eh? a ha ha ha ha, my friend will love this.”
Me “Great…”
Colleague doubles over with bewildered laughter.

Not the most exciting of blog headers but there you go.

Yesterday I rang a customer to inform her that the book she had ordered had now arrived and was available for collection. A man answered, I asked to speak to Mrs Whoever, he said “Can I ask who is calling please?” of course he can, I told him I was ringing from the bookshop and he called out;
“There’s some girl from the bookshop for you.”
Some girl! I dunno, not the most offensive thing ever, but I just can’t imagine him calling out that there was some boy on the line had one of my male colleagues called.

That wasn’t the manners bit actually, that was just an observation that we react in the way that we do according to who we are reacting to. Not sure if that makes sense so it’ll just get to the point.
A woman came up to the counter. I was wearing a very vivid pink and purple striped top with a turquoise skull in the middle ( I know! It’s gorge.)
She said “Why the skull?”
I said “Because I like it.” Now I know that wasn’t the friendliest of replies, but there was something about her.
She said “Is it saying danger to all who look at your chest?”
I smiled. I bagged her purchase and took her money.
“I am staring at your breasts.” she said.
Oh!
I was stumped for a response. She was a grey haired lady in her late 50’s/early 60’s. Had she been a bloke I’d have probably been massively pissed off, as it was, I remained speechless as she picked up her bag and left.

A father and daughter came in to pick up the specialist academic book that he had ordered on her behalf. He had paid in advance, as is customary, and it cost £80, which obviously is a lot of money. She had a look at the text book and pondered whether it was really the one she wanted. He explained that the one she requested is out of print so this was the updated one, the 12th edition. She complained that it appeared to have less in it than the one she had seen. He said that even if she found one page of it useful he wanted her to have it. He told her not to worry about the money. She still hesitated.
I understand, it was a lot of money, it was important for her study that she get the right book. I searched on-line for other books, this was the only one on her specialist subject. She wasn’t sure. Fine, she needed to be sure. She spent half an hour deciding. In this half hour she examined page after page of the book whilst hunched over my counter. All other customers had to lift their books over her head to get them to me. I said excuse me, and I’m sorry, and could you? many times, and she just looked at me, all distracted and would move perhaps an inch over, and then turn more pages and repeat that she just wasn’t sure. Her father proudly smiling at me. Sheez. She took the book in the end. No manners at all, just wrapped up in her own cocoon of importance.

In the paper a journalist states that an independent bookshop (X) is a successful example of a good bookshop, and goes on to complain that a chain book store (Y) will be dumbing down and culling its already limited stock further to make way for more chick lit and sleb biogs. She says
“When a bookshop works, there is really nothing quite like it – and X works. As an independent, it cannot compete with the big chains on advertising or discounts. So it has come up with other, more subtle strategies to bring in customers. Its staff, for instance, are passionate and knowledgeable.”
And of course that implies that Y’s staff are not. Yeah, yeah, I’m biased, but truly the booksellers I work with are all kinds of ace. Seriously, you have to care about books to sell them right, it’s not a get rich kinda job, it’s a choice made by full timer’s because they heart books. I am lucky that the branch I work in is full of quirky, non-mainstream delicious books, as well as the usual offers and current best sellers. Well it’d be pretty shit if we didn’t stock the popular stuff too eh? I am sure that the journalist can’t possibly be referring to a shop like ours when she bemoans
“If you’re the kind of person who walks into a bookshop hoping to stumble on as yet unknown treasures that you just won’t be able to resist buying, you’d better forget it.”
because that is exactly the kind of store that we are. It’s a pleasure to browse the store even as a bookseller. I only go in at the week end and there are always fab new titles, intriguing older books and so on. In addition to the stock we have we will order any book that is available for you, or you can order it on-line from our www address. No, all the books in the world do not fit under one roof. Whoo, surprise.
I did work in another shop a few years back that was originally staffed by cool individuals who had a mix of passion and knowledge that the manager was happy to reflect in the stock. Then the manager went to a bigger store, and the new manager was someone for whom books were just a commodity, and the job a stepping stone. The book loving staff left for other branches or new things, and the manager employed people she could easily manage. She didn’t have the confidence in her own abilities to employ sassy intelligent people who could challenge her. She employed drones who would memorise those best sellers, and yet not read any of the books and therefore not be able to comment on, or recommend. That’s an issue of mis-management, not a problem where I now am where the manager is an awesome woman.
I don’t know why I am even bothering to comment on this at all. There is no need for me to do so, nothing to gain from me sitting here on my little blog blathering about it, but I guess that really, it pisses me off that a journalist I like, with a huge readership, makes such a crappy statement in my favourite Sunday paper. And having passionate knowledgeable staff isn’t a subtle strategy for fucks sake, it’s the basic rule in book shops all over.

EDIT. I removed the journalist and books shop names, purely to stop someone at work from finding my blog by googling those words after having had a discussion with them today. It’s just a colleague, who I do like, but who I don’t wish to share my blog revelations with.

If you went into a bookshop and they offered you a free book from a selection of 150 assorted titles you’d take one right? Who wouldn’t? I simply can’t conceive of not being pleased to get a free book. Every single day at work someone will come to the counter and I will kindly inform them that as 2 of the books they are purchasing are part of our 3 for 2 offer they are entitled to select a free book. Sometimes they will be happy, they will thank me for telling them, we will smile, I will patiently put their other book choices to one side as they take the time to enjoy choosing a book FOR FREE. Sometimes they will be a bit startled, they feel forced into making an on the spot decision. In that case I reassure them that they can take their time and it’s not any problem at all. Sometimes they say they don’t know what to pick, I will happily advise them, find out what they like and suggest one. But sometimes they say
“I don’t want one.”
And I just don’t get it. Surely, even if they are the kind of person who only buys 2 books a year and doesn’t even read them, they must have a friend or family member or someone who they could give a book to as a gift. It would cost them nothing. Grr. I am very broke at the moment, and there are several books in the current offer that I really want to read, what if I scanned them through as the third book and kept them. That would be cool. I assume however that it is WRONG to do such a thing, so of course won’t. I like my job, I aim to keep it so will continue to silently curse at the people who don’t want a FREE BOOK.

I have been away to my parents for half term. Had a horrid time. I came home Friday arvo, and worked yesterday. It’s odd having a Costa suddenly appear in the shop. It takes up half of the third floor and smells good. However even with their offer of 10 percent off for us book folk it is still more expensive to buy from them than to nip next door to the Pret. Plus Pret has nicer mocha and almond croissants. But, yeah, there’s the whole ethics thang, and Costa = good and Pret = big bad McDonald’s apparently. Hmmm, my book store employee’s wage just doesn’t stretch so…
I wasn’t the only one either, we guiltily tried to hide our tell tale take out bags as we walked by the coffee guys.
(We could always make our own in the staff room, but hey, it’s my Saturday morning treat, I take lunch from home dammit, I will not be deprived.)
The other problem with it is that it’s so darn noisy. Well of course, people chat over coffee, and they laugh too and yell and it’s all good. Except that it sounded like a big party was going on every time I picked up the phone which didn’t seem too customer friendly. Whatever, really I am all for coffee and book shop marriages.

I saw a new book of short stories yesterday that looked ultra enticing;
Magic for beginners by Kelly Link.
I am a little weary of some short stories, I have read so many that they often blend and become just more of the same, from what I could see this looked intriguing and fresh. Of course I haven’t actually read them yet! But anyhoo, worth checking out I would say.
http://www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/displayProductDetails.do?sku=5567773

She also has an amazingly gorgeous site at http://www.kellylink.net/index.html

Chip and pin; people, come on, at least give it a fucking go. It’s been months since it’s introduction, surely by now you know what is expected.

Blimey. I mean at least try eh? Don’t just stand there and look at me as if I’m shit and fling your card across the counter at me so that I have to lean right over (and I am short so it’s a big stretch) to your (the customer) side of the counter to insert the card into the machine whilst you gaze off into the distance as if its all vaguely beneath you. Or worse, speak on your mobile phone until I ask again for you to enter your pin before it “times out”, then tut and tell the person on the other end to hang on whilst you do me the favour of pressing those mystery digits into the box of wonder.

Sigh.
This is me at least 20 times a work day.
Yes, they are all different aren’t they [smile], I don’t know why they didn’t make them uniform [smile] The chip has to go in the slot. No, the other way, [smile], no, the other way [gestures a flip movement with right hand].
Sigh.

COFFEE

There are major changes afoot at the bookshop. We are to have a coffee shop! Personally I buy in to the whole American idea of books and coffee. Ever since watching “Ellen” when younger I longed for a similar experience. I adored the sarky coffee guy, and the quick humour of the whole staff team. It may even have been one of the reasons I aspired to being a bookseller. (After watching a dreadful film starring Molly Ringwald as a tour leader in a museum I vowed to get similar work. I worked in museums for 8 years, until I had my twins, obviously I am easily swayed by idealised pictures of how things could be.)
There are mutterings for and against. The idea of sticky fingers flicking through books is one that fills me with horror. I like my books pristine. I have no clue what the policy will be on people taking books from shelves into the coffee shop bit. After all we are not a library. Eek.
At the moment we have had to clear lots of books to make way for the coffee shop, so we have had to reorganise each floor. There are 5 floors in total, and it took a while to learn the location of all the various sections, now my brain feels branded with that knowledge. It is automatic to direct people without thought to the correct areas of the store, and now, we know nothing. Each of us was consulting a list and looking vaguely moronic when asked.
At least 10 times a day I am asked for a customer loo, and have to reply that there isn’t one. Soon I can direct them to the coffee shop one instead of to the Pret a few doors down. Yay!

BAGS

Being environmentally aware (ish) I know that bags are not a brilliant thing. When I do my local shopping I try to take my own (rather snazzy Nightmare before Christmas) shopping bag with. I re-use carriers as bin liners with the vague notion that is helpful. I recycle as much as I can. However, if I am serving a customer I do usually assume that they want a bag if, say, they are buying a large and heavy book, or several books. If it’s just 1 paperback I may well ask
“Would you like a bag?”
And if I do the reply is always a slightly incredulous “Yes.”
If I don’t ask, and just shove it in a bag then a customer will often then say “Oh, I don’t need a bag” and I’ll feel like an idiot. See it’s lose/lose.
We have 3 different sizes of bag, small, medium and large. The large ones are only ever used for enormous books, or for say 6 or more small ones. It’s a heavy duty kinda bag.
Yesterday I had to work with the Bossy Woman. I have only worked alongside her twice in my year and a half at this store. Once was on my second day, and being an older, louder territorial kind of a woman she drove me nuts. She is very particular about how one does things, but I was new and sucked it up until in front of a customer she told me I was wrong when in fact I was right. She had made the assumption that seeing as I was new that I didn’t have any experience with the company. I had in fact just transferred from another branch after working for them for 6 years. I was calm but assertive. She made a big fuss, and called the duty manager who agreed with me. We have avoided each other since.
Anyhoo, yesterday I had to relieve her for her breaks, that’s fine, I didn’t have to work with her. We smiled and made worky small talk. It was OK. Then in the afternoon she was serving an old man who was doddery and shaky when I arrived. She continued to serve him. He was buying 3 big books which I placed in our largest bag. He had a shopping trolley with him so I knew he wouldn’t have to carry them.
“Oh Sara.” she said “No, no, no…put them in two bags please.” she laughed. “Oh dear.” She tutted, she smiled at the customer “I’m sorry.”
I said to the customer “Did you want separate bags? Or is it going in your trolley?”
“It’s just to go in there, thanks.” he said. I gave him the 1 bag, he put it in his trolley. His hands shook as he asked if we had a customer toilet. When I said no, he said “Oh dear, it’s rather urgent.” Bossy Woman left. I pressed the lift button for him and just hope he made it in time.