Confessions of a Curious Bookseller
Page 18
To: Staff
Re: Two things
Dear Angela,
Perhaps a heart attack would be better?
Fawn, Owner
From: Sam Asimov
Sent: Fri, Feb 8, 2019 at 6:20 PM
To: Fawn Birchill, Staff
Re: Two things
Hi Fawn,
A heart attack isn’t tragic enough. You want people to buy stuff, right? Also, maybe the car accident wasn’t so bad and he can come in tomorrow? A heart attack would lay him out for days.
Also, can we please group text instead?
Sam
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Fri, Feb 8, 2019 at 6:23 PM
To: Staff
Re: Two things
Dear Sam,
Good point. I don’t know how to group text, and since you’re responding so quickly to my emails, I see no reason to fix what isn’t broken.
Thank you,
Fawn, Owner
P.S. No one has seen Butterscotch?
February 8, 2019
Disaster doesn’t quite sum it up enough. After telling everyone that their guest couldn’t make it due to minor injuries from an accident on the way over, I was forced, after much protesting by my customers, to refund the tickets. I felt like Marie Antoinette kneeling at the chopping block! I sat gallantly behind my counter with Kyle at my side and issued refunds until I thought my fingers were going to fall off. I also gave them all discounts on their already-purchased books.
To make matters even worse, instead of going home, more than half my guests went down the block to the Grumpy Mug. All that advertising and hard work was not all for naught—it was all for Mark! So in the end, I lost a great amount of money and at the same time provided him with an influx of wealthy customers—all primed to spend good money at a bookstore.
After they had left and the sound of the last BMW engine dissipated into the night, I wearily asked that my staff take five minutes and look for Butterscotch—but the search was in vain.
All I can think about is having to do this all over again tomorrow: another crowd of disappointed rich people, another multitude of discounted books and refunds. I can’t help but hear my father’s nefarious laughter in the distance. I know I made a mess of things, but it is too late now. It’s too late. Maybe I should have asked for help, but that would have been harder than any of this. There isn’t a greater sense of loneliness than when you know you’re making a mistake and you still don’t ask for help. And then when it’s been made and everything falls apart, and you’re standing there in the ruins of your decisions, you either give up or you keep going. I have learned that I am the kind of leader that keeps going. In some instances, that must be an admirable quality, right?
I am very frightened that one of my guests made off with Butterscotch out of spite. Or perhaps they let him run out the front door? He has disappeared in the past, and I have found him tucked into the bookshelves or sleeping under the bed—but I have never held an event like this. He is not used to this kind of crowd. I will have to take some pills because I just cannot sleep tonight. This Tuesday I am supposed to go on a date with one of my contacts on Philly Love Finder, but I don’t know if I can with Butterscotch missing.
Money is once again a problem, but I think that goes without saying. Angela suggested getting a credit card, but after watching my father max out his credit cards, I fear that I may do the same. I have one credit card that I use to buy cat food and kitty litter, and I pay it off promptly every month. It has helped my credit, which is a positive thing, but never will I use it for anything so great as an event, the mortgage, or payroll. When I was very young, I witnessed my father dragging out my mother’s hutch, which was an heirloom from her family going back a few generations. He set it on the lawn, and it was gone in about ten minutes. I believe he got $500 for it, enough to put a small dent in his credit card debt. He then broke the lock on our front door and called the police. When Mother came home, he told her burglars came in and took the hutch and some of the cash he had out on the table. Little did he know, I was watching the entire thing from upstairs. When the cops asked me where I was, I told them I was upstairs sleeping and didn’t hear anything. Father said he was outside mowing. The story didn’t exactly add up, and the cops had a hard time buying that burglars would walk in on a sunny Saturday and steal an old hutch while the man of the house was home working in the backyard. However, my father has a flare for the theatrical, and he expertly turned red and embarrassed by the emasculation of having been robbed in broad daylight. If I had been more clever, I may have been able to use my knowledge as blackmail against him. I suppose I still could; however, he is harmless these days, like a crocodile that’s lost its teeth, and I am not such a terrible person as to do that to my father, as awful as he is and was.
From: Mark Nilsen
Sent: Sat, Feb 9, 2019 at 4:09 PM
To: Fawn Birchill
Subject: Thank you for the business!
Hi Fawn,
Just want to say thanks for all the customers you sent over to my store after your event. It was moving to see such an influx of people still willing to buy and donate after they had probably spent a lot at your place.
I am overwhelmed by the amount of money we made and by the number of books donated. What a great neighborhood we share.
I hope your event was as successful as mine.
Best wishes,
Mark
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Sat, Feb 9, 2019 at 7:54 PM
To: Mark Nilsen
Re: Thank you for the business!
Dear Mark,
Oh, the pleasure was all mine! Great events all around, for sure! I, too, am overwhelmed by the success we had over here. And now, I’m just super exhausted, ha ha!
And to think we have to do it all over again tonight! Must find coffee!!
Best wishes,
Fawn, Owner, The Curious Cat Book Emporium (a The Adventures of Tom Sawyer specialist store)
PSB Classifieds
Antique Wingback Chair in Good Shape ($400)
Bold, barely used, with a story to tell—take this chair home and live like royalty.
Original upholstery
Some wear on the feet
Orange with a green flower design
PSB Classifieds
Coffee Table for Sale! ($40)
Hey, Don Draper called. He wants his coffee table back!
From the 1950s. Only two coffee-stain rings! Classy yet modern. Live in style.
PSB Classifieds
VHS Tapes!! ($5 Each)
These rare tapes are going fast! All work just fine (I played all of them through to the end to make sure). Tapes include but are not limited to:
Storyteller Café—the complete set
The 700 Club (good quality!)
Rigoletto
Sister Act
Milton Berle, the Second Time Around
Fight Club
Touched by an Angel reruns (good quality!)
Richard Simmons’s Stretchin’ to the Classics, Tonin’ to the Oldies, Sit Tight, and more!
. . . and much, much, MUCH more!!!
Advertisement
MISSING MY BELOVED CAT
Nine-year-old tan cat that sometimes answers to “Butterscotch” went missing February 8. He is sweet, kind, and usually bears the expression of a lost little lamb (even when not lost). He is declawed, so he will not scratch you if you pick him up. He wears a white flea collar. He really likes raw tuna, so if everyone who reads this puts a plate out tonight, one of you may draw him in. Call me if so.
Thank you.
Fawn Birchill/CuriousCatBooks/5m
Fawn here. Missing #Butterscotch, my cat. Ran off after #Mark Twain #Event. If seen please post or email me. Tan cat, declawed, friendly. Please help.
/> THE CURIOUS CAT BOOK EMPORIUM
Blog Post #3
Butterscotch Is Missing!
Fawn was planning to write a fun and lighthearted entry for Valentine’s Day but will have to postpone due to unforeseen circumstances. Instead, she will write a profile of her beloved cat, Butterscotch, to heighten the community’s awareness of his recent disappearance.
Name: Butterscotch
Color: A milky blondish-orange with faint cream-colored stripes
Appearance: He has the face of a little lamb and big brown eyes. He is quite small in size. He is declawed by a previous owner and so, if wandering the streets, has NO WAY OF DEFENDING HIMSELF. No fleas or worms!
Personality: The sweetest cat to ever walk the earth—wouldn’t hurt another being in a million years (except the occasional mouse)
Favorite Toy: A raggedy squirrel with catnip housed inside its belly
Favorite Show: Downton Abbey (He likes the dog in the opening credits, and each time it appears in a scene he stares fixedly as if reconnecting with a long-lost friend.)
Favorite Foods: Hot dogs, tuna, and candle wax
Went missing on February 8 in the Clark Park area of West Philadelphia. Please, if you are reading this, keep an eye out for him. He is no doubt malnourished, cold, and frightened.
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Mon, Feb 11, 2019 at 5:00 PM
To: Staff
Subject: Today
Dear Staff,
For those advance ticket holders that didn’t show up at the event on the ninth but are requesting a refund, please grant them this. We are ceasing discounts on the Mark Twain books.
If anyone sees Butterscotch, tell me immediately.
Fawn, Owner
PHILLY LOVE FINDER
Dear Capitan_Murphy,
I am going to have to postpone our date tonight due to unforeseen events in my family. My dearest younger brother has gone missing, and the family is banding together with authorities to search for him. I am sorry, but my life has become wrapped up in this quest, and so I must decline until he is found. He is very adventurous and often hitchhikes and climbs bridges without any rope, so any number of things could have happened to him. I wouldn’t say he willfully ran off, as he and I are about the closest two siblings the world has seen. Needless to say, I am up night and day and in no shape to participate in small talk and niceties. Thank you for your interest and patience in this matter.
Best,
Butterscotch
February 16, 2019
I have lost the will to date. My Philly Love Finder profile is down until Butterscotch is found.
Phillysmallbiz.com did an article on my Mark Twain book sale. They were there incognito the very first night of the mayhem, and they have recently published a terrible review and a false representation of my store. I’ve picked out some choice quotes: “The shop smells like a stable, and one can hear mice in the walls, even over the owner’s incessant chatter.” “Most of the books are marked up, moth-eaten, and stained with god-knows-what on the pages.” “The books are well organized, but the selection is limited, as one will find five copies of The Sound and the Fury and no copies of As I Lay Dying.” “The Mark Twain Room looks as if a tornado blew through. All of this, on top of the fact that the guest of the night failed to show, is a testament to Ms. Birchill’s disorganization and overall lack of planning. Thankfully, the Grumpy Mug Bookstop was holding its event next door, offering an unwitting haven for the disappointed customers. . .”
Need I go on? If this reviewer bothered to run a store of her own for five minutes, she’d see it’s no walk in the park and would think twice about publishing this tactless slop. Needless to say, since then customer numbers have further decreased.
I must engage in some damage control. I did not want to go to war with the Grumpy Mug, but I fear that I have been given no choice in the matter. For the past day and a half I haven’t left my bed, but I can certainly strategize from here. I am distracted, however, by the many negative reviews on PSB, and I can’t keep up in replying to them. I have a collection of saltine cracker remnants in the folds of the sheets, and last night I kept rolling on their sharp little edges. I keep finding bits of cracker in my hair and in the wrinkles of my nightclothes. Sometimes I smell my breath in disbelief of how bad it’s gotten in a little over twenty-four hours. It’s nice to still be able to surprise myself these days. Besides saltines, I have been living off sliced American cheese and dry Frosted Flakes. I don’t want to drink very much because that means going to the bathroom and looking in the mirror. Butterscotch going missing only exacerbates the situation. I haven’t cried. I think the state I am in is beyond tears. What I feel is a deep hurt that goes down into the bones. It is despair and ennui. It is as if a great hot wave has come down over me, dragging me out to sea. But I will not be dragged into obscurity, marooned, or otherwise vanquished by that bearded nobody. If he wants to steal my customers, he won’t get them without some serious repercussions. Clearly, it is a war that he is asking for, and I am more than willing to give it to him.
From: Mark Nilsen
Sent: Mon, Feb 18, 2019 at 3:04 PM
To: Fawn Birchill
Subject: Poster outside my store
Hi Fawn,
Can you please remove the poster you have stapled to the telephone pole on my property? It’s very distracting and a bit of an eyesore.
Thank you,
Mark
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Mon, Feb 18, 2019 at 3:30 PM
To: Mark Nilsen
Re: Poster outside my store
Dear Mark,
I wasn’t aware that the telephone pole directly in front of your store is your property and not the property of the city of Philadelphia. Therefore, I apologize for putting my poster there. Since that pole is surely the property of the Grimy Mug, then can you please climb up there and take care of the poor connection that has always afflicted my landline? I’m so glad to have come in contact with a real person that can take ownership of this issue so that I no longer have to wrestle with the soulless telephone company to get things done.
Please provide proof that the pole is in fact your property, and I will swiftly take the poster down. Otherwise, it shall remain.
Best wishes,
Fawn, Owner, The Curious Cat Book Emporium
From: Mark Nilsen
Sent: Mon, Feb 18, 2019 at 4:03 PM
To: Fawn Birchill
Re: Poster outside my store
Hi Fawn,
Not only is it dangerous to staple anything to utility poles, but it is illegal. Please take down the ad.
Best,
Mark
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Mon, Feb 18, 2019 at 4:50 PM
To: Mark Nilsen
Re: Poster outside my store
Dear Mark,
I fail to see how it is illegal to post anything on telephone poles. And your warning that it is dangerous is preposterous. I am nowhere near the wire itself. I will look this up online, as I think you are starting to make things up out of fear that I may entice people to come to my store over yours. How sad.
Best,
Fawn, Owner, The Curious Cat Book Emporium
P.S. Sorry I mistyped your store as the Grimy Mug. It’s an easy mistake to make, as the two words are so similar.
From: Fawn Birchill
Sent: Mon, Feb 18, 2019, 5:03 PM
To: Staff
Subject: Poster
Dear Sam,
Please walk over and remove the poster from the telephone pole. No need to try to save it; just rip it off and come back. Apparently I can get a citation from the city for posting an advertisement on a telephone pole. Who knew?
Many thanks,
Fawn, Owner
PSB Classifieds
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Various plants, mostly aloe, for sale. Make your home a jungle paradise! Suffering from a cut or burn? Just break off a hun
k of the aloe plant and slather it on the wound! Over fifty to choose from!!
Call if interested.
PSB Classifieds
Oriental Runner for Sale ($95)
Introduce some class to your apartment with this oriental runner. Possibly antique. Small stain of what appears to be chocolate on the edge, but no doubt easily cleanable.
Serious inquiries only.
February 22, 2019
For the first time in my career, I have had to dip into my savings account to pay my employees. For some time now, I have been using it to pay the bills, but paying employees with a credit card is like paying in pounds of flesh—there is only so much one can give. I don’t know how I will keep it up. I don’t want to fire any of them. Angela is kind, Kyle is indispensable because he’ll do almost anything, and Sam is . . . well, Sam has some positive qualities, I suppose. At least he’s not terrible to look at.
The stairs to the second floor are in worsening shape. Securing that sagging step on the way up to the romance and children’s sections seemed to do nothing. Perhaps it was due to the many guests from the Mark Twain event. In any case, I decided to try and fix it myself last night with a sledgehammer and crowbar and some nails. It took some time getting the old step to come up but eventually and with enough pounding and wrenching it released—and so quickly that I nearly tumbled down the stairs! I replaced it with a new plank of wood; however, the wood I had bought was too short so I did my best to center it. As long as people don’t walk up the sides of the step, no one should fall into the little well underneath. It was a real workout when it was all said and done—three hours later! The wine helped.
I’m beginning to wonder more and more if one of those rich snobs from Princeton stole Butterscotch. I can almost picture him batting the windows of their BMW SUV with his impotent little paws, begging to be back with his mother. I can see them driving with that self-righteous smug look on their face—so sure they are getting justice. The thought breaks my heart, but it’s much better than the thought of him being out in the street fighting off cats and dogs with no claws—with only his wits and will to survive. In this way, he and I must be in very similar situations. I hope we both come out of it together intact.