She was HOT! He kept his cool.

Wes is our first call if we need a pinch-hitter for a day here or there in the bookshop. Those of you who read the blog regularly may remember that Wes married Rachael in a Quaker meeting at the bookstore last year.  IMG_3418He’s been invaluable while Jack’s in Scotland, because I’ve gotten tied up with some things at the college.

Today when I relieved him, a stack of J.A. Jance mysteries were sitting out of place on a counter top. Wes grinned when he saw me looking at them.

“Funny story about these,” he said, and launched.

A woman had come into the store with her daughter, who was the epitome of metrosexual beauty: lots of arm tattoos, her nose was pierced, and she wore a floral print mini-sundress.

“She was HOT!” Wes assured me, waving his hands in curves that, presumably, described the contours of her paisley pattern tattoo sleeves.

Hot Girl browsed classics while her mom surfed the mystery room. Mom emerged with the five Jance paperbacks, marked $3 each in good condition.

“That’s $15,” said Wes, smiling at the producer of Totally Hot Girl.

“What?” she shrieked. Wes, accustomed to people being impressed by our pricing, beamed, but Hot’s Mama continued, “I can get these cheaper someplace else!”

A few other customers in the store (who had also been admiring THG) began to studiously ignore what was going on. Hot Girl threw her mother an evil look.

Wes, however, has been hanging with Jack and me awhile now. With perfect dignity, he scooped the books from Hot’s Mama’s arms. “Then of course you should,” he said, bowing from the waist. “I’ll put these back for you.”

Out went Mom, back erect. Hot Girl waited until she left, then, according to Wes, “began grabbing classics randomly from the bargain bin. She bought $25 worth, and kept apologizing for her mom.”

Wes assured her it was not a problem. He invited her to come back anytime. “ANYTIME,” he emphasized, bagging her books. He probably carried them to the car for her.

It’s unusual that someone fusses about our prices–more unusual than a tattoo-wearing, flesh-piercing, breast-and-leg bearing Totally Hot Girl waking into our bookshop. Big Stone Gap isn’t as sleepy as people think.

And Wes? He’s looking forward to minding the store again tomorrow. I’ve told him my project at the college might take all week. He assures me this is not a problem.

Such a nice boy.

Albert Speaks his Mind

reading kittenHi. I’m Albert. My sister Princess Stephanie is around here someplace. We live in a bookstore. Well, we do right now. Someday we’re gonna live in our own house, but I hope it has lots of shelves in it ’cause we’ve gotten really good at bouncing off them an’ using them for hide and seek.

Steph and I came here with our mom an’ brother Alfred. Alfred was really shy which for some reason got humans all excited. “Oh, look at the little one peeking around the corner!” they’d say, all gooey an’ everything. Next thing you know Alfred went out the door, riding high on some lady’s shoulder, giving Steph an’ me this “So long, losers!” look. Kinda makes me mad, ’cause I taught him that corner trick.

stephanie I’m the oldest. It’s my job to make sure Stephie gets a good home, too. That’s her on the left; you can see she’s fluffier than me. She whacks me with her paw whenever I say this, but she’s gonna run to fat when she’s older. You know those fluffy cats who lie on the sofa back all day watching television, between bowls of cream and tummy rubs? Yeah, that’s my little sister.

Me, I’m more of an adventurous guy. I’m studying mousing now; you should see my jumps! Stephie an’ me, we’d kinda like to go together at this point. We’re twelve weeks old, been friends all our lives an’ all that, but I know it doesn’t always work out that way. She’d be okay anywhere, too. We don’t call her Princess Stephanie for nothing.

albertalfredMom went back to the place she used to live. She was barely out of diapers herself when she got pregnant with us. I feel kinda bad for her, but at least she did have a home to go back to, once we were in foster care. I don’t mind being a foster kitten. The meals are regular an’ people cuddle us an’ if mom’s not here, well, we’re not out on the street like some cats.

Steph an’ me, we’re happy cats, like to run an’ play, like our tummies tickled. We’ve got big purrs an’ big hearts an’ we know how to use the potty all by ourselves. We keep our food area clean an’ if you just roll a jingle ball my way every once in awhile, I’ll count myself a lucky kitten. So how ’bout it; wanna come visit and let’s see how we get along?

albert and alfred