Sold an “IWKYA,” a “Lollipop,” a “Pirates & Mouse” and “Outlaws, Rebels…” (jointly), and (just about) a “Most Outrageous.”
“IWKYA” went to “Marcel” (last mentioned in “Adventure 309″), my Christian Scientist-raised café pal. (Did you know Ms. Baker-Eddy okayed dentists? His mother went every few weeks.) I gave him third off cover-price, as befitting his subsidized-living status.
“Lollipop” went to “Pat,” a buddy from my pick-up basketball days, who has since moved on to tennis and, now, pickleball, which he recommends for aging joints.
“Pirates” and “Outlaws” were purchased, via PayPal, by a “Richard,” which puzzled me somewhat since I had sold neither of those recently and, just a week or so ago, a woman in North Carolina had said she planned to buy both. Was he her, I wondered. Was he buying them for her? Had she transitioned in the brief period since e-mailing me her intent? Discretely, I inquired, “How should my dedication read?” And “Richard” revealed himself to be, indeed, “Richard,” an UG comix fan and “collector” who already had one of the books in question but desired signed copies of both.
“MO”’s sale was even more circuitous. A couple years ago, I had advised “Coop,” a fellow at the café who worked primarily in off-the-books agriculture, about a problem he was having with SSI. To thank me then, he had bought a “Cheesesteak.” I had thought the problem solved, but that turned out not to have been the case and he required further assistance. This time he slapped $10 on the table.
“I can’t take that,” I said. “Buy a book.”
“Lemme buy you a coffee instead.”
“I have a coffee.”
“Lemme buy him one then,” he said of Pat, who was about to join us.
“He has a coffee too.”
“So I’ll buy him a book.”
“That’s what he’s here for. (See above.) You’re cutting into my gross.”
He left the money on the table, and since Monroe had previously expressed his interest in “MO,” I decided I would credit it to his account.
Everybody’s happy.
So many Bob Levins on the Internet; I'm the Bob Levin who writes.