Powell's Books Doth Sucketh

This is Powell's Bookstore. It doesn't look like much, but it is, literally, a city of books. It even says so, somewhere on the marquee. People come from all over the country, nay, the WORLD to go to this bookstore. Movie stars visit it (they'd like us to think that they read), every author imaginable has given free readings there, and it's so large and cavernous, they've outgrown their city-block sized 4 level store and have had to extend it into three extra locations. Everybody shops there. If you're seen walking down the sidewalk with a Borders or Barnes and Noble bag in your hand, why the locals will openly scowl in your direction. They may even hiss. How dare you not shop local. Sinner. Heathen. Neo-con. Oh, no wait...that doesn't work. Whatevs.

I hate it in there. Took a lunch break to go find a few items that I just thought of. 1:30 on a Monday...granted, it's right before Christmas, but it was like fucking Lollapalooza in there. I kept expecting to see a bouncer throwing water bottles out to the crowd. And everyone's frantic...like the books are gonna walk off the shelves if they're not the first one to get to them. There are piles and piles of each book. I kid you not...piles.

But the cavernousness is the real issue. 4 floors that are reached through several different doorways and levels, and all are color coded, not genre coded. So if you want to find fiction, you have to remember that fiction is in the Blue Room. But people don't remember. Mainly, they wander about like children who've lost their parents. Or old people who've lost their...well...everything.

The book I was looking for wasn't a normal book, it was a collection of found objects made into a book. Of course that doesn't really fall under any sort of genre, so I went to the info kiosk for assistance with where to go, you know, after wandering around like a lost child for a while. I was informed that the book I was looking for was located in the Pearl Room. I looked down at the map on the desk. There's the Blue Room, the Red Room, the Gold Room, the Green Room, etc. But I didn't see a Pearl Room. I looked back at the woman, "What color is 'pearl' exactly?". She pointed to the far corner on the top floor marked Rare Book/Art Room. The color was...well, "So you mean the gray room?". She replied with a tired smile, "Yep". Me, incredulously, "'Pearl' is actually gray? Why don't you just call it the Gray Room?". But she hurried me along because other lost children were lining up behind me.

So I climbed the flights of stairs to find that they were out of the book I was looking for. Grrrrrr. Bet that never happens to the movie stars. They probably get carried to the Pearl Room on a gilded shelving cart. Anyway, later this week I'm going to Barnes and Nobles. Shut it.

And now...the requisite holiday picture of Becks (don't you wish I was YOUR child's aunt???):