Dedicated To The Books (And In The Books)

I worked at a bookstore for a while, which I referred to as “selling to support my habit”. While I was employed there, a friend of mine published several cozy mysteries. On the release date for the second one, I brought it up in our pre-opening meeting as something I was going to be trying to hand-sell since I wanted to help my friend out. It hadn’t arrived yet, but I was hopeful that it would show up as we got that morning’s shipment unpacked.

Sure enough, when I checked on it an hour or so into my shift, I saw that it had been received, so I popped down to the basement to grab it and bring it up to the section to show to customers. While I was digging it out, I overheard two managers in their office. [Manager #1] and I loathed each other, but [Manager #2] had hired me in the first place and we got along well.

Manager #1: “I bet [My Name] doesn’t even know that author and just wants an excuse to be obnoxious.”

Manager #2: *Pauses* “You know she basically can’t lie, right?”

Manager #1: “Everybody lies. How else would anything get done?”

Meanwhile, I had found the book I was looking for, flipped it open, and — OOH!

Me: “Hey, [Manager #2]! Look at this! She actually dedicated the book to me and didn’t tell me!”

I showed both managers the dedication page, which clearly had my first and last names, the combination of which is unique.

Manager #2: “Okay, now that is cool. Right, [Manager #1]?”

[Manager #1] turned several interesting colors.

I did in fact manage to hand-sell all six copies we got over the next few days. One customer even asked me to sign the dedication page, which I found odd, but what the heck? Why not?