Tuesday, September 27, 2005
it's always something else.
i wish i could communicate to some of you the intense frustration that is part of living in new york. some of you, of course, are already aware, and very probably consider me something of a whiner. i fully admit to the whiner. and yet i am constantly surprised that simply getting things done here is constantly difficult and does not get easier over time. some of it is the sort of inevitable hassle of trains and commutes and higher prices and lower income nd no car and no time and seriously different population density. but some of it just feels willful.
yesterday i left home early so i could go to the Big Chain Bookstore to look for a book. i hate BCBs, and not just for the dar williams crystal deodorant reasons. they are awful. you know this: they have bad lighting and disheartening displays of oprah picks, chick lit and self-help books and lots of young employees who would clearly rather be playing x-box live. they are often playing john mayer.
i can't find a good bookstore that's near any of my usual routes, though (other than the strand, which is awesome for some things and useless for others), so i end up ordering online or popping by the BCB more often than i'd like. the BCB at union square didn't have my book, though. they directed me to the even bigger CB a few blocks away. that store did have my book, but the young man at the info desk told me it was "in the closed-off section." he wrote the book's name and some kind of call number on a piece of paper and told me someone would go get it for me. i thanked him and started looking for the "closed-off section"--which i assumed was some sort of theft deterrent area for textbooks, given the season. i couldn't find it anywhere.
i asked another man behind another desk. he asked what section the book was in. i told him the "closed-off" one. that's many sections, he said. then i don't know, i said. i gave you the title and the number, can't you look it up?
he taps on his keyboard. tap, tap, tap.
"what section is it in?"
i don't know what section it's in.
"you should have asked someone what section it was in."
i tell him that really all i need to know is where this "closed-off" section was. he told me to follow the orange line. i did so, and found a entire wing of the book store that was without electricity, this big dark cavern of books. it was roped off and grumpy BCB employees were massed at the barrier with flashlights, running into the cave and ferrying books out of the dark area for customers. i showed one of them the piece of paper i'd been given.
"what section is it in?"
and i stabbed her with a plastic fork.
no. i told her i didn't know, but given the subject, i thought it might be in the reference section. she disappeared into the darkness for ten minutes, and then emerged saying she couldn't find it. i began slowly to transform her into a pillar of salt. she went to a computer in the lighted area. tap, tap, tap. five minutes. seven minutes. back into the darkness. six minutes. and then she emerges.
"we don't have it."
and, really, this is a dumb story. i ordered the book from @mazon, the end. it's not a BFD, this BCB episode. but this happens every week. something like this does. and i suppose it's helpful, in the most mind-crunching way, because the larger message must be
you think you're in charge? you're not in charge!
and, yeah. i guess i'm not.
yesterday i left home early so i could go to the Big Chain Bookstore to look for a book. i hate BCBs, and not just for the dar williams crystal deodorant reasons. they are awful. you know this: they have bad lighting and disheartening displays of oprah picks, chick lit and self-help books and lots of young employees who would clearly rather be playing x-box live. they are often playing john mayer.
i can't find a good bookstore that's near any of my usual routes, though (other than the strand, which is awesome for some things and useless for others), so i end up ordering online or popping by the BCB more often than i'd like. the BCB at union square didn't have my book, though. they directed me to the even bigger CB a few blocks away. that store did have my book, but the young man at the info desk told me it was "in the closed-off section." he wrote the book's name and some kind of call number on a piece of paper and told me someone would go get it for me. i thanked him and started looking for the "closed-off section"--which i assumed was some sort of theft deterrent area for textbooks, given the season. i couldn't find it anywhere.
i asked another man behind another desk. he asked what section the book was in. i told him the "closed-off" one. that's many sections, he said. then i don't know, i said. i gave you the title and the number, can't you look it up?
he taps on his keyboard. tap, tap, tap.
"what section is it in?"
i don't know what section it's in.
"you should have asked someone what section it was in."
i tell him that really all i need to know is where this "closed-off" section was. he told me to follow the orange line. i did so, and found a entire wing of the book store that was without electricity, this big dark cavern of books. it was roped off and grumpy BCB employees were massed at the barrier with flashlights, running into the cave and ferrying books out of the dark area for customers. i showed one of them the piece of paper i'd been given.
"what section is it in?"
and i stabbed her with a plastic fork.
no. i told her i didn't know, but given the subject, i thought it might be in the reference section. she disappeared into the darkness for ten minutes, and then emerged saying she couldn't find it. i began slowly to transform her into a pillar of salt. she went to a computer in the lighted area. tap, tap, tap. five minutes. seven minutes. back into the darkness. six minutes. and then she emerges.
"we don't have it."
and, really, this is a dumb story. i ordered the book from @mazon, the end. it's not a BFD, this BCB episode. but this happens every week. something like this does. and i suppose it's helpful, in the most mind-crunching way, because the larger message must be
you think you're in charge? you're not in charge!
and, yeah. i guess i'm not.
