A full Iceland update will follow, but first, something that happened this morning. David Sedaris‘ new book was released today, and the Brookline Booksmith, in order to sell books and promote Sedaris’ June 15th reading and book signing at their store, gave away free tickets to the appearance with the purchase of a book, one per book and four books maximum per customer.
I walked with Aimee to her car at around 7:00 this morning, and found no one outside the Booksmith, so I headed to Peet’s for breakfast. After 45 minutes of New Yorker catch-up, I headed back over and found myself number eight in line, as I was told by someone running the show, who was not in fact an employee, but someone interested to an even higher degree than the other overly-interested people who were lining up outside a bookstore before 8 am. Myself included, naturally.
Anytime I line up for something that isn’t completely obvious, I’m always entertained by passersby who inquire and members of the line who try to explain the situation. This morning was no exception. “He’s a writer, funny.” “A humorist, a satirist.” And then a response: “Oh, I don’t know, I heard about a writer who writes on various topics, but I don’t know. I’m interested in people other people have never heard of, too. Well, I don’t do much reading, but I watch a little tv, but shows aren’t as good as they used to be.” He really needed someone to talk to.
Some members of the line, which had grown to at least fifty by the time the store opened its doors at 8:30, seemed to take a measure of those asking about the line to see whether or not they needed any context. A thirty-ish guy with nice glasses and a laptop bag? He received the brief reply, “David Sedaris tickets.” The old couple? “Tickets to see David Sedaris, he’s a writer.” “Ohh, David Sadarris tickets, honey, he’s apparently a writer.”
The doors finally opened, and we streamed in, in quiet, orderly NPR-listener fashion, and started buying books. Most people bought more than one, so I’m not even sure if the fifty people in line at the time were able to get tickets. The space downstairs is limited to 150, which seems like a lot for the size, and according to Josh, they were sold out of the tickets by 8:45. As I bought the tickets, I thought back to four years ago this month, when we saw Sedaris read from Me Talk Pretty One Day in the basement of the Booksmith, one of the first things Aimee and I did together the week I moved to Boston. I made my way out with four copies plus four nicely screen-printed tickets, and headed to the No. 66 bus and back home.
