Adventures in Marketing — Week 323

Sold a Cheesesteak, Goshkin, Best Ride.
The buyer, a boy-ish 50-something fellow in a “New York” sweatshirt, had punctuated his presence by dropping his latte and croissant on the floor when turning from the counter. When “order” – his and the café’s – had been restored, attracted by my “Buy Bob’s Books!” sign, he joined me. “I’m bi-polar,” he said by way of introduction. “Or manic-depressive.”
“Some of my best customers are manic,” I said, recalling the woman who had given everyone in the café a Meyer lemon from her backyard tree, bought four of my books, scooped up six more from the “Free” shelves – and had not been seen since.
Jackson, my new fan’s name, was originally from South Bend, a city (and state) he hated. He had lived in Chicago, Austin and NYC and was staying at an airbnb around the corner, while settling his daughter who was starting UC. He said he was a photographer, but I don’t believe that was how he made his living. (He showed me photos on his phone – cities at night, often photo-shopped. Bright lights against darkness. Very nice.) He also hoped to write.
I gave him a card so we could keep in touch. (This made, oh, 323 straight people to whom I have given my card who have not made use of it.)

In other news…
1.) Make that 324. Nathalie, a middle aged woman who, having registered my last name, quickly informed me she was Jewish too. She had emigrated from Russia not too long ago, worked in patents on the East Coast, and was here for a conference. She promised to get back to me and, in fact, has stuck her head into the café a second time, smiled, and waved.
2.) Swapped a “Goshkin” to an artist/cartoonist/editor in Seattle. He had issued a limited edition portfolio of ten drawings. I wanted to buy one, but he said he would give it to me, so I said he could have one of my books; and that was what he chose. An off-beat selection, I thought. (“Lotsa laffs,” I said. “Also lotsa penises,” I said. “Penises?” he said. “I have no idea what you mean.”)