The Best Was the “Young” Part

Yesterday I went to the Strand with a college friend who was visiting from out of town. The big-box used bookstore was as crowded as possible for any Saturday that’s not leading up to Christmas. First we checked out all the Simon + Schusters, Penguins, Vintages, and New York Reviews of Books laid out on tables, and then we headed deep into the stacks of the poetry section. It was there that a heavyset middle-aged guy with his hands full of books smiled at me and said hello. I thought he was just trying to get to know me in some way that I didn’t really care to be known, so I just smiled and got back to the task of trying to find some Seamus Heaney there. It was only later, when we had to pry ourselves out of Poetry and he said “young men!” that I realized he thought we were both clerks there, ready to help him find whatever we was looking for. I suppose I would have helped anyway, but we were already making good progress in getting through the crowds and heading for the exit.