I guess if you are a regular book reading person, the issue I'm about to complain about never comes up. However, if you read more than three to seven books a year my complaint may also be true for you.
So I've just come home from yet another trip to Books for Less. (Yes, I know I'm not supposed to buy anything until I've read all the stuff I already have, but I had a bunch of stuff to trade in and while I was there I figured I'd look around.) I only bought five books and when the nice clerk was done checking me out he rather unceremoniously, if cheerfully, dumped all my shit in a bag and said, "Have a nice day!"
Now, my shrink friend Andi would be all over me here (but she doesn't read my blog so I'm safe.) I'm complaining about the possible damage of books that I bought in a used book store... But there were at least five or more other books that I didn't buy because of the condition they were in, so I'd like to think the ones I wanted to purchase would make it home in the same condition that I found them on the shelves. Am I being absurd? That said, I like the place, the people and the price that I bought the books for too much to say anything further.
I can't exactly quantify the following so prepare to roll your eyes: this may have been the greatest used book store purchase ever. The Firebrand by Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski, Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke and an Easton Press Edition of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain; all were bought for a total of $22.76 and believe me when I say Huck Finn is in "Like New" condition. You should be jealous, because I'm bragging.
Clarke is a Christmas gift for someone that I know won't read it, I have a moral aversion to Card, but was caught up in the moment and couldn't hold back, Bradley was there and an odd feeling of compulsion overcame me (and there is an awesome Simon and Schuster 'remainder stamp' on the bottom in the shape of their logo that I've never seen before) Spakowski I have extraordinarily high hopes for being the greatest thing since rum. We'll see. As to Twain, I haven't read it but how could I say anything wrong about a man who writes such essays on masturbation?