Was there no other place your entire family of seven could congregate?
There I was in “New Biography,” quietly surveying the selection of recently released tomes, when you all decided to have a family gathering/literature discussion in “Biography,” right behind me.
As much as the former English major in me enjoyed your amusing and thoughtful discussion on the merits of the biography of so-and-so, the sane person who appreciates her personal space felt a tad crowded by your teenage progeny hovering 6 inches from my right ear weighing the ins and outs of your family’s gift list.
Now, I realize that makes me sound like a snob, and I don’t doubt each one of you possesses intelligence vastly superior to mine.
There were other people in the store also interested in access to the Biography aisle – I know this because when I looked up from the book I had my nose buried in, I saw them peer hopefully into the aisle trying to gauge the best route in, then abandon the idea because it would’ve been next to impossible to navigate your family’s literature pow-wow.
You know, your decision to camp there for half an hour probably turned away some sales. As hard as book stores have it in this day and age of the Nook, the Kindle, and any other reading device that may someday be invented, this is a real shame.
This habit of people treating public spaces as their home turf, while remaining oblivious to pretty much anyone else near, around, or next to them has always been one of my biggest pet peeves. I’m willing to consider that I may need therapy and/or meds to combat this problem, as there’s no getting around the fact that it happens whenever you enter a public space of any kind, and getting bent out of shape about it regularly is really not very good for my mental health. At the very least, I may need to sedate myself before venturing into Barnes & Noble anytime soon, or at least until the holiday shopping season is officially over.
Funny, not 20 minutes after the Barnes & Noble “incident,” I went to Target, where there was a guy in the cereal aisle with his enormous shopping cart clogging up half the aisle, while his wide stance in front of the fortified bran section took up the other half. Even when I edged close to him to reach for a box of Special K just ever so slightly beyond where he was standing, he did not move.
What’s a girl to do?
I hear there are places on the interwebz you can order books and supplies online. It’s called Amazon, maybe you’ve heard of it. Maybe I’ll check that out next time I want to do some hassle free book shopping. Especially since I can shop in my pajamas, all while enjoying an adult beverage. Hmm, very civilized.