After he moved the books there was still a big gaping hole in the humor section. Fortunately the gaping hole eventually bought a book and left.
Lileks doesn’t want to share the remaindered bin with Hannity:
In Chicago I went to several bookstores to see if I could find it. Borders was the first. Theyâ€™ve decided that the book belongs in the Home Decorating section instead of the humor ghetto. I found four copies and took them down to the desk at 11:30 PM and asked a clerk if I could put them in the big humor display on the ground floor; the clerk nearly wet himself. I â€“ donâ€™t â€“ know! I donâ€™t have the authority! He looked around with the expression of Peter Lorre cornered in an alley, and I pressed the point. Câ€™mon! Thereâ€™s a big gaping hole in the humor display. And itâ€™s a new book. Youâ€™ll sell â€˜em all, I promise. He gave in. Thanks! I said, and I bought a book just to show we were pals.
Downtown at the Michigan Avenue Borders I took advantage of the crowds and moved the book without asking anyone. No one noticed, since the store had the human density of a Soylent Green distribution center. It was worse across the street; millions were streaming in and out of Water Tower Place, which gave me both claustrophobia and agoraphobia, these twin familiar terrors compounded by the idiotic din of some drummers who had set up on the corner for the express purpose of deafening everyone. I shopped for a few hours, resisted the desire to see if the repositioned books had sold, then went back to the hotel.
Later the clerk, unnerved by the strange man with the funny Minnesota accent and Star-Trekian large forehead hid some of the copies in the storeroom to make the stranger feel better…and maybe not return and annoy the paying customers who just wanted to buy the Jenna Jameson book and leave without being leered at:
But before I blew out my voice I went to the Barnes and Noble across the street from the hotel. Humor ghetto: no book. Home decorating section: no book. Damn. A clerk noted my crestfallen aspect, and asked if he could help; I told him what I was looking for, and he guided me to a table â€“ a table! Where the book was on display. It was surrounded by tottering stacks of other new books. Only three copies left.
â€œItâ€™s been selling really well,â€ he said. â€œPeople have really been saying they like it. And they say itâ€™s a lot like this other book, I donâ€™t know if youâ€™ve heard of it, â€˜The Gallery of Regrettable Food.â€™â€
Oh, it does not get any better than that. Except maybe it does: I went back the next day. All the copies were gone.
He actually believed me when I finally told him it was my book, too. I think.
Yes. Because simultaneous eye-rolling and smirking is the international sign of agreement.