I'm shelving books on Christmas Eve, and the store is packed. As I step toward my cart through the stream of customers along the aisle, a woman appears from behind a post covered with display titles. On the other side of the post, a girl leafs through an enormous book about Lady Gaga.
The woman stops me. "Can you help me? We're looking for... Wait, where's my daughter." [the girl looks about thirteen?] "So, we have to buy a book for her grandfather. And he's kind of a shit. So, what's a good, impersonal book to give an old man?"
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My daughter's grandfather could be kind of a shit too. He spent a good part of his retirement years waging war against the squirrels who made their living eating his walnuts, filberts and cherries. For Christmas I bought him a book: Enjoying Squirrels. The Care and Feeding of Our Furry Friends.
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