The One

Last Friday I went to Nice Price Books in Durham with my friend Karen. I came out 15 minutes later with a French-English dictionary, to be used on the aforementioned Swiss study abroad excursion, for $2.98. Sweeeet.

What ever happened to cozy used book stores? They friggin' rock. I mean, yes, there is no computerized system for speedy book location and there is even less of a chance you will be browsing by author, but used book stores retain a charm that Barnes and Noble will never touch. Take away the computers and all you are left with is you and the books, nothing in between. I think I am particularly attracted to this sense of rawness. An environment where you have to search for the book you have in mind but where the journey itself will expose you to a million new titles and authors on the way. A journey which can be dimly lit and often times allergy-inducing. A journey that begins with hair slicked back and jacket on but leads to being sprawled on the floor in your tank top sporting a chia pet look, mind and body pouring into a science fiction selection. A journey where you may have to leap over neatly stacked romance novels to get to Poe and end up finding Isabel Allende next to a picture biography of Marlon Brando. And after all the tears and sweat have been leached from your body, you finally stumble upon your gold treasure. That book that calls to you. The One.

How satisfactory is THAT.

You go home, prize in your hand, and pray for a rainy day so that you have reason to light a fire and curl up with The One. Every page you turn is a sweet reward for all of your hard work.

Come on, people, isn't this what life is all about? I mean let's be real here. Real life is not organized into isles. If it were, it would be boring. For all the hard work humans, myself included, do to get shelves arranged and ducks in a row, the universe tends to pull in a more chaotic direction. I say stop fighting the forces.

I guess this is all nice and groovy in an idealistic sense. But thinking it over as I type, who would be there for me the day before class when I need that Russian Lit book? Barnes and Noble. Who would be there when I forget a birthday and desperately needed a book, journal, and a felt tip pen to gift away? Barnes and Noble. Sigh.

Dear Nice Price Books,
Know that when I come to visit you, I come with an adventurous spirit. Barnes and/or Noble just can't yank at my inner core and essence the way you do. Our relationship is special; their relationship is strictly business. It just doesn't compare. You are The One to me. I reserve fire-side curl ups for you and only you.
Love,
Roshen


All in all, a reminder that having life at our fingertips is quite a privilege. Sometimes we forget what its like to really have to work. And, furthermore, what type of information and creation comes out of real sweat and labor. Thanks to Nice Price for reminding me that its well worth the reward. And p.s., thanks for organizing by subject to make the journey a bit easier.