(I’ve dated guys, not a lot, but enough to make me wary of being geeky or showing how much I like to read. When I say I like to read, I mean I have over a thousand books and am constantly buying more. A lot of the guys I’ve dated have told me that I should downsize my books because they don’t really want to date a girl who reads. I have been in a solid long-distance relationship for about eight months now with this guy who is really just the best thing that ever happened to me. We are discussing the fact of my lease running out in about two months and if it would be better for me to extend my lease for six months or not.)

Me: “Well, it might be better for me to do that, so that I can find a place I like better, maybe with more storage space. Though I just hate the idea of moving… so many trips to the truck and up and down the stairs… It’s horrible.”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, those stairs will be killer for sure.”

Me: “I’m not giving up my books.”

Boyfriend: “O…kay?”

Me: “I know that’s where your mind was going, because everyone tells me that, but I’m not giving up my books.”

Boyfriend: “Did I ask you to? Did I say, ‘[My Name] I want you to be unhappy, dull, and boring; please give up the thing that makes your eyes sparkle and makes you laugh.’? Did I say I want you to stop being you?”

Me: *now embarrassed* “Well, no, but—”

Boyfriend: “No, listen. Does this make you happy?”

Me: “Yes?”

Boyfriend: “Do you pay all your bills on time with money left over? Do you feel joy at your collection? Do you read them?”

Me: “Yes, to all of those.”

Boyfriend: “Then why on earth would I tell you to get rid of them? In fact, I think you need another book, just to get rid of this mindset that people want you to be unhappy! Get your shoes, woman; we are going to the bookstore!”

Me: *teary eyed* “I think I love you.”

Boyfriend: “I know.”

(Yes, we did end up getting a book at the bookstore. He ended up proposing that night, and I accepted!)

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(My sister has spent over thirty years in retail. As a present for her, I decided to buy a copy of “Pretending You Care,” a humor book about retail and the problems of retail workers. The bookstore I frequent doesn’t have any copies on the shelves, so I go to have it special ordered for me.)

Salesman: “Pretending You Care? Oh, yeah, I read that one; it’s really good. It’s about how to drive sales by showing empathy with your customers, right?”

(Oh, I wish that I thought he was being ironic intentionally.)

(I’m a librarian, working in a large city centre public library. I should also add that I’m male and reasonably conservative in dress and appearance. On this day, I’m putting together a display of books, called “Loud and Proud”, promoting LGBT authors. A middle aged male customer wanders over and takes a look.)

Customer: “‘Ere, mate, what’s all this?”

Me: “It’s a promotion we’re running to coincide with the city’s Pride parade. There have been several high profile gay and lesbian authors recently, and we’re trying to—”

Customer: “Yeah, yeah. I get that. But who are these people?”

Me: “Some you might be familiar with already. Both Jake Arnott and Sarah Waters have been adapted for television, and essentially they’re great storytellers regardless of their—”

Customer: “Yeah, sure. But my point is, where are the books for the rest of us? You know, for us normal people?”

(At this point I pause. The walls are lined with bookshelves, there are more free-standing bookshelves around the room, plus spinners, racks and more. All filled with books.)

Me: “Well, there’s plenty of other stuff to choose from…”

Customer: “Yeah, but don’t you feel a bit awkward about all of this?” *he gestures towards the one small display stand being used*

Me: “Not at all. I’m gay myself.”

(Customer looked as if he was going to explode, eventually settling on throwing his books on the floor and storming out. I shared this story with my manager, who laughed her head off, and suggested we run another display called “100% STRAIGHT!” consisting of men’s fitness guides, SAS memoirs, and Lee Child/Andy McNab thrillers. We eventually did something along those lines, but with a less provocative title.)

This story is part of the Pride Month 2023 roundup!

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(A woman comes in to the bookstore, I’m at the desk with another customer. She “peeks” into our space and says she just has a “quick question.”)

Customer: “Where is the Bridge book?”

Me: “I don’t know offhand; I will check after I’m finished with this gentleman.”

(She storms away towards our register. A coworker asks:)

Coworker: “Do you think she wanted this? *holding one of the many “summer bridge activities” books we sell*

Me: “No idea.”

(I see the woman storming out of the store (you can tell when they’re storming) and flag her down. She stomps over to us.)

Me: “Is this the [Activity Book] that you wanted?”

Customer: “NO. I want the required summer reading book for Junior High.”

Me: “Oh. A Long Walk to Water?”

Customer: “Yes!” *sneers*

Me: “Hmm, no bridge in the title.”

I am discussing poetry with my freshman Honors English class. We’re talking about how great poetry usually comes from deep, strong feelings. A student asks about the “happy poetry” from Doctor Who.

I am baffled.

I try to ask him if he remembers any of it, so he can give me a clue to what he means. He can’t. I ask him which Doctor he refers to.

He just says, “Who!”

A bit frustrated, I once again ask him which one of the Doctors he is referring to, specifying there has been more than one. I’m just trying to zero in on at least the season, so I can maybe Google what he means.

He stares at me for a few seconds. Then he hits his head and almost screams.

“Seuss! I meant Doctor Seuss!”

I have to bite my tongue to not laugh uncontrollably. The rest of the class has no such composure.