It’s What Friends Do
“The first book I ever purchased was In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. Incidentally, after 43 years, the fascination with true crime lives on”
When I was hired through OCAP to work at the bookstore, the minimum wage was $2.84 an hour. The 4 month program created by Saint Lawrence College helped young Canadians secure employment and employers save a bit of money off the back end. Each entity paid half my wages with maybe a full-time job by the end of it.
At the time, the store held nothing but cliff-note type books priced at $7.95 or less. The 5×7 trade paper-backs were sandwiched beside a healthy variety of coffee table books priced at $20.
There were two old registers with 4 buttons apiece. Cash – Charge – No Tax and No-Sale. It didn’t take a genius to sort it out. A calculator was used to multiply the newly introduced GST, which has been with us since 1991.
There was a small yellow lapel button for new hires: a sort of get-out-of-jail-free-card that I wish was there today. (In fact, I asked for it on my last day of work- but it was gone). Very sad.
My first customer was an older gentleman asking for ‘books with no-name’. Called a regular, he purchased several books over the course of his lifetime. Being wheelchair bound, he could not reach the top shelf so I was asked to help choose for him.
Now, there comes a time in everyone’s life when the sheet of innocence is torn away and that was it for me. A year later, when someone went looking for Anonymous Porn, I was asking if they wanted me to read the backs-for storyline.
I was never a germophobe, but became obsessed with washing my hands after managing the store alone, my first Sunday. The toilet overflowed and the floor tiles went floating out the back door. Maybe that’s where my sarcasm came from?
Backward and shy, I was terrified of little kids but had no trouble picking out books for them. When that 10-12 year old age group acted up, I’d give them 5 minutes to get it out of their system before reminding them of where they were and to calm down or else.
From people watching-to body language: if you’re any good, it will take you far. An old friend taught if I went someplace new and didn’t know anybody, to find myself a senior type and ask what they did for a living. Getting to know a tiny bit about someone in 5-10 minute intervals created a bevy of friendships, tradesmen and father-figures when I most needed them. They weren’t all made-to-order though.
Diamonds in the rough were those who could never be satisfied but sweetened when complimented. As an aside, code words kept us safe and a good rapport with security kept seedy characters away.
Offering someone a tissue or hard candy during a coughing jag were small gestures that went a long way. For me, that random handful of women who embraced me that time with my aunt Marguerite at Christmas- remains the best memory.
And of course, to all the ones who came before – there’s a name for that: sorrow and gladness too.
In the bookstore world, turning 35 meant a huge chunk of customers moved to senior’s apartments, nursing homes or the cemeteries. The worst part was the not knowing which door – or what day… they were just gone.
Having to grieve those losses and more as decades passed, were some the hardest of my career. Customers appeared to be getting younger as stragglers stopped buying Nora Roberts. Nowadays we’re back to those senior men and women using walkers or canes; stubbornly refusing to stop reading and let me tell you, I’ve got something to say!
By now, I know all their favourite authors, where they worked, even the name of their parakeet and BOY, are they happy to see me. So when I let the cat out of the bag last year that I’d be retiring, I could see it written all over their faces. I would be missed!!
And even as the gap between our ages slowly closes, we’re more alike now than ever before, so I did them one better by offering to share phone numbers, so we could stay in touch.
It’s what friends do.
Lisa Gray
Copyright © September 2024
