Back to the Bookstore
Dec. 4th, 2021 09:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
krpalmerMarch 13, 2020 (which just happened to be a Friday) was the day I told myself I couldn’t keep “hoping against hope” and would have to cut out any outing not absolutely essential for the sake of my own health. On that day, though, I did chance going into the national chain bookstore in the city mall after work one more time to buy a few more volumes of manga. After weeks of holed-up uncertainty about just how I’d keep following the series I was following (and I’m aware it was a luxury to be able to wonder about that) I sorted out I could start ordering from an area comics shop and have the boxes dropped off on my doorstep.
Things did not change that much after my second vaccination even though my work office filled back up for a second time under new protocols; I’m still trying to shake the worry seeded early on that, even with my exposure to other people controlled where possible, touching anything brought in from outside remains risky without washing my hands with soap and water right afterwards. I was a bit conscious of days piling up since I’d been in any bookstore, and that did mean a least a little. Along the way, however, I just happened to notice some suspicious charges to my credit card right after making one more order from the comics shop. Uncertain if their web site really had spun for a moment and then asked me to enter my credit card number a second time, I got a new card from my bank and started ordering manga from the online site of the national chain, which I had ordered a few nearly “respectable” books from in the meantime to have my own hard copies of library books, library e-books, or e-books I’d bought myself.
Then, searching for one recent release, I noticed it wasn’t “available online” but was “available in stores,” including the store in my city. I shrugged and ordered it that way along one other volume for pickup, contemplating the option to phone from outside and have the order brought out. On driving to the mall yesterday evening, though, I paused outside, peered through the windows, and was daring enough to head in despite the bookstore’s door to the outside being locked so that I had to go some short distance through the mall itself. That wasn’t quite as crowded as getting into the store, and I dodged and weaved past people until I came across a store clerk who could fetch my order. At that point I thought I could at least head for the magazine rack, which wasn’t busy, and I found a particular issue there to buy; the checkout line, at least, was spaced out. It’s a small purchase to weigh risks known and imagined against; I’ll just have to keep up my regular self-screening. For all of that, though, the bookstore had not been rearranged from what I’d seen.
Things did not change that much after my second vaccination even though my work office filled back up for a second time under new protocols; I’m still trying to shake the worry seeded early on that, even with my exposure to other people controlled where possible, touching anything brought in from outside remains risky without washing my hands with soap and water right afterwards. I was a bit conscious of days piling up since I’d been in any bookstore, and that did mean a least a little. Along the way, however, I just happened to notice some suspicious charges to my credit card right after making one more order from the comics shop. Uncertain if their web site really had spun for a moment and then asked me to enter my credit card number a second time, I got a new card from my bank and started ordering manga from the online site of the national chain, which I had ordered a few nearly “respectable” books from in the meantime to have my own hard copies of library books, library e-books, or e-books I’d bought myself.
Then, searching for one recent release, I noticed it wasn’t “available online” but was “available in stores,” including the store in my city. I shrugged and ordered it that way along one other volume for pickup, contemplating the option to phone from outside and have the order brought out. On driving to the mall yesterday evening, though, I paused outside, peered through the windows, and was daring enough to head in despite the bookstore’s door to the outside being locked so that I had to go some short distance through the mall itself. That wasn’t quite as crowded as getting into the store, and I dodged and weaved past people until I came across a store clerk who could fetch my order. At that point I thought I could at least head for the magazine rack, which wasn’t busy, and I found a particular issue there to buy; the checkout line, at least, was spaced out. It’s a small purchase to weigh risks known and imagined against; I’ll just have to keep up my regular self-screening. For all of that, though, the bookstore had not been rearranged from what I’d seen.