I'm pretty sure I have already created a post with this same title. But how can you not write an Ode to Borders every day? Yesterday I went to the one on Lawrence in Uptown. That Borders is like the only "ghetto" Borders in the world. It is also my favorite Borders ever because it is basically a transient hotel. Every aisle you go down you will find a homeless person sitting in the windowsill reading something. Also they are reading, like, War and Peace, and not just magazines, which is what I usually read there.
That is the only unique and lovely thing about this Borders. Otherwise it is business as usual: the salesladies who think they are so well-read but are really just bored housewives accost you about what you're looking for and remind the homeless readers that Borders isn't a library and that if they grub up any books they will be forced to buy them. The psychology section is 98% self-help. Religion includes a section divider for "Western Religion" which is really just a bunch of different-colored Bibles, but there is no divider for anything Eastern. And of course there are only four books of poetry, hidden in a dark passageway near the bargain books: Shakespeare, Nikki Giovanni with pictures of her plastered all over the covers, Yeats, and Chicken Soup For the Poet's Soul.
5 comments:
i love your odes to borders. i bet those transients are looking for balzac's house.
I bet the transients know who Rimbaud is.
i can't wait to check out the bloomington borders! I bet there are no homeless people in it...maybe "hippie variety"
homeless. but you need a car to get there and there are no dogs allowed so probably not.
I live right near that Borders! The security follows me because I am not homeless. Also, they're closing it soon because it's in an historical site and there's some type of scandal because historical sites are not supposed to have a Borders. Or boarders.
In Costa Mesa, Borders tore down an historical site, promising they would paint a mural of it on the side of their new building. They never painted the mural. the poetry sections of Borders make me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
Why the ass do you go to Borders?
Post a Comment