“These books still for sale? I see you’re packing up,” I said to the hunched over man on the other side of the table. His white ponytail had started to loosen, and chunks of frizzy hair were sticking out from both the sides and the top of his head. The man had already packed dozens of books in bags and several large shoeboxes on an upright cart with big metal wheels. The cart was full, with corners of books jutting out and concave pockets of plastic bags stuffed up and down the cart. The man looked like the laundry cart next to him, the pockets of his vest and cargo pants bulging and receding from top to bottom. He hobbled over to me, his hair curling in the late afternoon humidity. “Always for sale ma’am. You want to see more?” he asked as he motioned to his cart.
“No, no, this is fine.” I picked book up off the table and leafed through it. I should mention, dear reader, I have a problem. I’m a sucker for books. It could be a bookstore, a library, a table on the sidewalk, or a friend’s bookshelf. I’ll stop dead in my tracks and take a look.
The man motioned for me to give him the book and I did. He brushed the book front cover and back cover and handed it back.
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“If you want to see all the others, I’ll get them back on the table,” he said pointing to his inventory again. I shook my head. As he said something else, the New York City rush hour traffic noise swelled and his voice was lost. I continued to browse the books as the roar of several passing trucks quieted.
“No, how much for this one?” I held up a used copy of Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. It has always been on my reading list.
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“Four dollars, please. You sure you don’t want to see the other ones?”
“You sure you don’t want to see the others?”
“No, no, this is plenty. Hours of reading here.”
“Thank you for your business.”
Lesson Learned
The man wasn’t wearing a pin that read “Excellence in Customer Service.” He wasn’t uniformed in a department store either. But, he knew how to treat a customer.
