Library book sales are a brutal, neanderthal competition. Get there early after a hearty breakfast, buy your $5 bag and proceed to throw yourself into the masses, shoving past old, small people, kids and volunteers. The whole idea is to stuff as many books, cds and videos from the eighties you will never watch because you trashed your VCR years ago into that bag. My personal record was fourteen books.
Yes, I behaved like a crazed animal--but in a good way. I am determined to become an intellectual if I have to elbow grannie to the ground to get there. It doesn't matter that I haven't heard of most of the authors. These are basically new books no one has checked out and are taking up valuable James Paterson space. I got a signed book by figure skater Kristi Yamaguchi to 'Jay's Mother.' The poor woman probably croaked and this was discarded to the library as part of her last wishes. I got a Hemingway and a Faulkner and a John Le Carre. I embraced a Life Magazine special edition on Princess Grace. I got a book by someone named Mikkel Birkegaard. Another by horror master Dean Koontz.
Here is the incredible part. I snared cds by Clapton, two Enya works, Sinatra, Keeny G, Mannheim Steamroller, John Tesh, and a TRIPLE cd by Yanni. Someone was a New Age/Easy Listening junkie.
Yes, I have bruises and was bitten once by an especially vicious reader, but I broke my record with 18 books and 8 cds. I stayed away from those lost cause videos. I deserve a reward. Gonna get myself a new bookcase, then hit the weights to bulk up for the next sale. First I have to lug this bag to my car.
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