I have no inspiration today. Zero. Zilch. Nothin’.
I am in the process of clearing out my bookstore inventory at a smashing 75% discount and I won’t go into detail about how people behave with that kind of a sale. But tomorrow is the last day and then I’m done. There will be great rejoicing in the land. Or at least in my house.
Perhaps today isn’t the best day to be seeking inspiration. Interruptions come in abundance and my thought process is sputtering, to say the least.
Okay, maybe I will go into a bit of detail about some of my – um – customers after all. I hesitate to use that word because most of them belong in a pinball machine. They bounce around from one place to another, bumping into things and knocking stuff over in the process. Then they laugh, as if it’s funny.
I am getting all kinds of advice from well-meaning people as to what to do with my leftover inventory. Put it on Craiglist. Okay. Sell it on eBay. Maybe. Open up a store in my house. Seriously? How would you like to have people knocking at your door at all times of the night and day wanting to browse? Not to mention the city bi-laws, zoning and licensing requirements for something like that. No, no, and no. I am done with the bookstore business.
There are kids standing at the counter with their noses in the free candy cane bowl. After their mothers have already said no to their pleas. The kids look at me in the hope that I will defy their mom’s decree and there is no way I’m going there. The kids who did get the candy canes can’t keep them in their mouths and I am forever wiping sticky fingerprints off books and toys and windows.
The day drags on.
And the locals keep coming in.
The woman who hasn’t yet learned to use her indoor voice. The girls who can’t speak a word of English and always flock around the novelties. The transit driver who parks his bus and delays his schedule on purpose just so he can browse in the store. The man who asks for an additional discount every single time. The little girl who likes to straighten the books. The mother who feels the need to bring her five unruly children with her.
I do love the regulars who have come just to give me a hug and say goodbye. They are precious people with whom I have crossed paths for a season and I will treasure that brief connection.
Next week, after all the books have been packed up and stored away, I will look for inspiration.