I’m very much back in work now. So I thought I’d catch you up on the news from Sam’s. First we are having a wedding. Jane our older S and M sister is getting married. Apparently the new trills in her life (from the books) have given her a sparkle which bought her to the attention of a certain gentlemen from the sheltered accommodation where she lives. In her sister's words ‘she snaffled the only decent bachelor in the place ‘
Both blushing bride to be and bashful groom came in today to ask two and myself to be ushers. How nice. We of course said yes. Apparently the wedding will be an epic affair and the bride as it is her first wedding will be wearing white and a veil. The groom seems a fine young man, being only seventy.
Malcolm has whilst I was away disgraced himself quite badly and is the current target of Sam’s icy disdain. Malcolm bought a live pigeon into the shop which we have so far been unable to capture. It has eaten Sam’s secret stash of ginger nut biscuits and blemished both books and the coats of customers which has hit Sam where it truly hurts –his pocket. I’m quite enjoying the gentle cooing as I work.
Strange (aka dashing but hairy) Brian continues to enjoy his bobble liberation having become a bit of a star on our local radio station with his spirited and eloquent comments on pretty much anything that occurs to him
Sam’s nephew, Harry, came in again while I was away. Two reports that he and Sam spent several hours in Sam’s office and raised voices were to be heard.
Two and low are well. That terrible smell has moved into the thriller section and we seem to have acquired a white marble bust of (Sam says) “Pallas to go above our chamber door” Due to Health and Safety concerns, i.e. it is very heavy, we are currently using it to prop open the door of the engineering section.
Showing posts with label Malcolm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Malcolm. Show all posts
Sunday, 9 August 2009
Tuesday, 30 June 2009
Never Again
That's it - no more wine for me.
Sam's longest day party was a great laugh with customers coming from far and wide (Sam welcomed everyone to the evening, hinting that some of them had come from VERY far away . . . I've no idea where he means or why the crowd gave a knowing laugh) and really enjoying themselves.
I had a glass or two of wine and planned to simply sit back and enjoy the evening. Despite Minion One's earlier post, I did actually notice her looking very nice in a dress but - and this is why I'm steering clear of the liquidised grape from now on - my attention was drawn to another lass who seemed intent on "easing my troubled soul" (her words)
I'm ashamed to say I didn't catch her name before she latched on to my face and, so it seemed, attempted to drag my troubled soul out of her mouth using her tongue.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur as she plied me with wine and wantonness. I swear I kept seeing Sam grinning every time he glanced over at me.
By the time the party ended, I'd somehow drifted off to sleep and the somewhat fey lass had vanished along with most of her companions. I woke to find Malcolm staring at me with a mixture of disdain and disappointment with more than a dash of contempt. Before I could say anything, he turned and wandered off.
Minion One has been very gracious over the last few days, not really asking questions about my mysterious lady friend, but Sam has done next to nothing except grin and chuckle at me which is more than a little disconcerting.
"Perhaps now you can get back to work instead of mooning around like a love-sick teenager?" he asked me this morning. I had to agree that perhaps I could.
Whoever she was, she certainly took my mind off the customer from a couple of months ago . . . but I'm still not going to drink any more wine.
Sam's longest day party was a great laugh with customers coming from far and wide (Sam welcomed everyone to the evening, hinting that some of them had come from VERY far away . . . I've no idea where he means or why the crowd gave a knowing laugh) and really enjoying themselves.
I had a glass or two of wine and planned to simply sit back and enjoy the evening. Despite Minion One's earlier post, I did actually notice her looking very nice in a dress but - and this is why I'm steering clear of the liquidised grape from now on - my attention was drawn to another lass who seemed intent on "easing my troubled soul" (her words)
I'm ashamed to say I didn't catch her name before she latched on to my face and, so it seemed, attempted to drag my troubled soul out of her mouth using her tongue.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur as she plied me with wine and wantonness. I swear I kept seeing Sam grinning every time he glanced over at me.
By the time the party ended, I'd somehow drifted off to sleep and the somewhat fey lass had vanished along with most of her companions. I woke to find Malcolm staring at me with a mixture of disdain and disappointment with more than a dash of contempt. Before I could say anything, he turned and wandered off.
Minion One has been very gracious over the last few days, not really asking questions about my mysterious lady friend, but Sam has done next to nothing except grin and chuckle at me which is more than a little disconcerting.
"Perhaps now you can get back to work instead of mooning around like a love-sick teenager?" he asked me this morning. I had to agree that perhaps I could.
Whoever she was, she certainly took my mind off the customer from a couple of months ago . . . but I'm still not going to drink any more wine.
Monday, 4 May 2009
The story so far.
It has been a while since my last blog for which I apologize. I have been away and Minion 2 was going to look after you but he is currently in love and so is no use to man or beast.
I went to visit my folks in Wales and spent some time in an old watering hole of Dylan Thomas, nearly every wall had a blue sign saying Dylan Thomas stayed here, or ate here or throw up and had to have a little sit down here. Still the bay was beautiful, the woods fecund and wild, the walking bracing and I saw seals.
But to business, what is happening in the shop? The S&M sisters have been in again. We had to find them a large print Karma Sutra, as a reference book so that they can check what exactly the books meant. Apparently they have started a reading group in the home and have a devoted circle of admirers who turn up to hear them read snippets from the books. The sisters were vaudeville performers once upon a time and so are ’more than capable of giving a spirited reading, which still carries to the back of the room‘ I am told. The mind boggles.
The JR Hartley addict has been in after some negotiation and I don’t know, probably bizarre blood rites in which he pledged his soul to the shop , or at least his wallet to Sam, been allowed entry to the holy of holies , Sam’s specialist collection. He left after several hours practically glowing from within like the Galahad having seen the Grail.
Malcolm fell from the top shelf where he had apparently been sleeping and alarmed a nun.
Horrible smell has now moved to the horror section, where it seems to be enjoying James Herbert. Minion 2 is trying to get it interested in other writers and keeps leaving Tim Lebbon books open for it.
Most curiously Strange Brian bereft of bobble, is slowly emerging from his habitual outfits in to some thing newer and smarter all together. Feeling unable to wear his hat sans bobble (“I mean it’s just a mockery isn’t it? “He said) the large duffel coat just had to go too. So he appeared in a leather duster which along with the furious beard made him look like the sort of person neighbours later describe as a quiet loner.
I found him in the sci-fi /steam punk section clutching his head and having a mild panic attack Sam correctly identified his malady and grabbed his spare hat from the hook by the door. It was his rather natty Blue Straw trilby with pink band; he firmly stuck it on SB head and yelled
“Keep it “as he rushed back to whatever.
When we next saw him he was wearing a shabby navy suit and the trilby. The week after the suit was upgraded to a smart sharply ironed number with crisp white t shirt. As SB was leaving I complimented him on the new look and put a white Gerbera in his button hole for him. He confessed he was thinking of trimming his beard a little. Wow, we might know what SB looks like any day now!
I went to visit my folks in Wales and spent some time in an old watering hole of Dylan Thomas, nearly every wall had a blue sign saying Dylan Thomas stayed here, or ate here or throw up and had to have a little sit down here. Still the bay was beautiful, the woods fecund and wild, the walking bracing and I saw seals.
But to business, what is happening in the shop? The S&M sisters have been in again. We had to find them a large print Karma Sutra, as a reference book so that they can check what exactly the books meant. Apparently they have started a reading group in the home and have a devoted circle of admirers who turn up to hear them read snippets from the books. The sisters were vaudeville performers once upon a time and so are ’more than capable of giving a spirited reading, which still carries to the back of the room‘ I am told. The mind boggles.
The JR Hartley addict has been in after some negotiation and I don’t know, probably bizarre blood rites in which he pledged his soul to the shop , or at least his wallet to Sam, been allowed entry to the holy of holies , Sam’s specialist collection. He left after several hours practically glowing from within like the Galahad having seen the Grail.
Malcolm fell from the top shelf where he had apparently been sleeping and alarmed a nun.
Horrible smell has now moved to the horror section, where it seems to be enjoying James Herbert. Minion 2 is trying to get it interested in other writers and keeps leaving Tim Lebbon books open for it.
Most curiously Strange Brian bereft of bobble, is slowly emerging from his habitual outfits in to some thing newer and smarter all together. Feeling unable to wear his hat sans bobble (“I mean it’s just a mockery isn’t it? “He said) the large duffel coat just had to go too. So he appeared in a leather duster which along with the furious beard made him look like the sort of person neighbours later describe as a quiet loner.
I found him in the sci-fi /steam punk section clutching his head and having a mild panic attack Sam correctly identified his malady and grabbed his spare hat from the hook by the door. It was his rather natty Blue Straw trilby with pink band; he firmly stuck it on SB head and yelled
“Keep it “as he rushed back to whatever.
When we next saw him he was wearing a shabby navy suit and the trilby. The week after the suit was upgraded to a smart sharply ironed number with crisp white t shirt. As SB was leaving I complimented him on the new look and put a white Gerbera in his button hole for him. He confessed he was thinking of trimming his beard a little. Wow, we might know what SB looks like any day now!
Monday, 9 March 2009
Ain't love loverly ?
Spring is in the air and lovers appear like mushrooms on the wooden pallets we have rotting in the back yard of the shop.
Clearly there is something about bookshops that brings out the romantic side of some people. Maybe it is the quiet , maybe it is the long winding avenues of books, whatever, everywhere you look this week there have been couples playing peek a boo round the shelves. Frankly it is all quite sickening.
Worse than this Malcolm seems to have been smitten too with the love bug, already given to alternating between poetic languor against book shelves and
macho posturing in the window he has now added singing/caterwauling and coming in to the shop really late to his talents. We have no idea who his paramour is but frankly I hope the situation resolves itself shortly, the anticipation is unnerving us all.
To more practical matters, I am reading a series by Patricia Briggs featuring Mercedes Thompson, a mechanic and coyote shaped skin walker. I have a love-hate relationship to the bit-chick-lit genre. I love the idea but so many of them end up going all Anne Rice/Laurel K Hamilton on me. My ideal of character development goes beyond the character acquiring more and weirder sexual partners. But so far Patricia Briggs is OK by me.
Minion 2 is reading The Seven Basic Plots by Christopher Booker
Malcolm, for reasons explained above, is dozing in the poetry section and Sam is reading The Green Dogs of Sorrow by Marshall France, which he says is magnificent but flawed.
I meanwhile, am off to do something about those rotting pallets.
Clearly there is something about bookshops that brings out the romantic side of some people. Maybe it is the quiet , maybe it is the long winding avenues of books, whatever, everywhere you look this week there have been couples playing peek a boo round the shelves. Frankly it is all quite sickening.
Worse than this Malcolm seems to have been smitten too with the love bug, already given to alternating between poetic languor against book shelves and
macho posturing in the window he has now added singing/caterwauling and coming in to the shop really late to his talents. We have no idea who his paramour is but frankly I hope the situation resolves itself shortly, the anticipation is unnerving us all.
To more practical matters, I am reading a series by Patricia Briggs featuring Mercedes Thompson, a mechanic and coyote shaped skin walker. I have a love-hate relationship to the bit-chick-lit genre. I love the idea but so many of them end up going all Anne Rice/Laurel K Hamilton on me. My ideal of character development goes beyond the character acquiring more and weirder sexual partners. But so far Patricia Briggs is OK by me.
Minion 2 is reading The Seven Basic Plots by Christopher Booker
Malcolm, for reasons explained above, is dozing in the poetry section and Sam is reading The Green Dogs of Sorrow by Marshall France, which he says is magnificent but flawed.
I meanwhile, am off to do something about those rotting pallets.
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