The thing is, I don’t go there as often as I did before the damn coronavirus and I don’t spend an hour or two there like I used to. It’s more like 20 to 30 minutes.
Sure, as always, there’s plenty of cool stuff to look, such as the books pictured in the featured image at the top of the post, and people still browse as much as they want, but I can’t stand empty spaces and that’s what I’ve noticed the most during my occasional visits since 5-17-20.
Empty spaces, I suppose, are part of corona precautions and that’s appreciated. I want to feel safe and not be at an elevated risk. I saw “elevated risk” a number of times on a covid form I signed before I decided to cancel a dentist appointment two weeks ago. The two words elevated my corona anxiety and I took them as a warning that I need to reschedule.
Since this post is about a bookstore and not the dentist office, perhaps I need to explain what’s wrong with empty spaces at my Barnes and Noble.
Spaces that used to have chairs, tables and benches are empty. Empty spaces are uninviting. You don’t expect me to sit down on the floor to relax and leaf through a book or two or a magazine or three for two hours, do you? That’s not a comfy experience.
And thinking of empty spaces, why am I also thinking of the Traffic song “Empty Pages”?
So much for my prized prose. Let’s look at the pictures I took while at the store.
If I had an editor, they would probably tell me to write captions for my fine examples of photojournalism, but I don’t have an editor and I believe the pictures are self-explanatory.
I might go back to the bookstore on Tuesday, 6-9-20. As I finish this on Sunday, 6-7-20, at 6:43 p.m., I need to see how soon Cristobal clears.
Whenever I return to Barnes and Noble, I will continue to honor their corona rules and I will follow guidelines I developed for myself.
My own rules:
Never touch printed material without using the store’s hand sanitizer as long as the sanitizer doesn’t have the scent of a stinky ol’ bass pulled from the Tchoutacabouffa.
Never cough through my mask.
Never sneeze through my mask.
Never sniffle through my mask.
Make sure my nose is under my mask, though my nose isn’t disgusting.
Make sure my mask isn’t covering my eyes.
The nose rule references a tweet the actress Jane Levy made on Monday, 6-8-20-, and it’s so good, I’ll share it with you to close out this post.