This morning I went to school to help my Spanish professor load/unload books to sell for a fundraiser for the World Languages Club (of which I am a charter member, a little embarrassingly, since I only speak 1.5). The idea was (is) to haul the books out and hope that high schoolers there for "Spring Preview Day" today would (will) buy them for $1 apiece.
As it turns out, most of Prof. Cucurny's books (that he could find -- the rest had either inexplicably vanished or been locked up in rooms for which he had no key) were children's books, including coloring books, sticker books, and cheesy paperbacks. There were some nice new Scholastic books in there, too.
I had to restrain myself from buying several.
I really am a sucker for used books. So much so that I'll buy more than one copy of the same book if it's a book I really like. This provides opportunity to observe the evolution of book covers from one edition to the next (a highly stimulating activity).
I try to remind myself of the sad story of Roger's grandpa, whose motto was "For a buck, you can't go wrong," and who proceeded to amass bargain-priced specimens until, at the end of his long life, his family was forced to sort through the basement that housed their motley inheritance and concluded that he had, indeed, gone very wrong.
But I buy the books anyway.
Anyhow, we hauled the books out and made $2 in the first hour. I also
- learned about the existence of the Urdu language from a Pakistanian student who came by
- met a platinum-blonde aesthetician who "teaches herself" languages (to me this is really funny)
- learned that GWC has a tobacco-free living club
- observed the frightening state of fashion among high school students
- lost the copies of Jude the Obscure and Nicholas Nickelby that were my contributions to the booksale
- found a penny
All that, and I left without buying any books.
It was a good experience. Rah, rah, GWC. Or something.
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