someone original
I've traveled through 15 states this summer, stopping at independent coffee shops and bookstores along the way, and frankly it's become more of a chore than a fun exploration.
All the coffee shops have the same instagram-clean look with Edison light bulbs and homemade artwork, high ceilings and big windows, and matcha lemonade for the summer (which sounds gross, but who am I to say). It's like a Starbucks but 'local' so you can feel better about going.
The bookstores are even worse. The entrance always has a 'virtue signal' table, with the most recent best sellers from the 'correct' politicians, minority groups, and sexual orientations- all of whom change based on what's the most woke at the moment. There's always a section for tourists, with greeting cards and magnets and fun 'quirky/edgy' notebooks that have the word 'damn' on them so you know you're not in a 'typical bookstore'. Oh, and mugs, so many mugs, always mugs with the city/town's name on them so you can go home and show your friends how quirky and original your choice is!
It's like eating runny oatmeal everywhere I go. Give me something weird, give me some spice, give me some texture, anything but the sterile white walls and the fake-quirky greeting cards. No wonder we all prefer Amazon.
Today, I was in a random neighborhood when I walked past an indie bookstore. Didn't even bother to go in, because like, why, but when I walked past, the owner dropped a box of 'for sale' books by the entrance, and something about the books caught my eye. I moseyed through the entrance.
No virtue signal table, even though the owner is gay and the neighborhood leans that way too. No fake-smiling politicians. No tacky cards or magnets or mugs. Just niche books and old records.
In the back, an 'adults only' section. I giddily bounced around women with massive bushes and books about harems and orgies, and men fitting ALL THAT GIRTH in their mouths, giggling because finally here was something that was actually edgy, something that I won't find at a Starbucks or a Barnes and Nobles or a plain-jane store in 'hip placeholder town' USA.
At the front of the shop, I picked up an old Philip K Dick novel and checked out.
"I love this book," the owner said. "And the cover art was designed by someone who went to school here! They designed art for magazines and then later, a Queen album cover."
Wow. Someone without sterile. Someone with weird, and spice, and texture. I smiled and asked him what other books in the store were his favorite.
He walked me around, showing me poetry from all around the world, teaching me about sci-fi authors I must read, letting me in on the local authors who waxed poetic on Appalachia and the rust belt. I wanted to buy them all but I only had room for one more so he pointed me in the way of one of his favorite authors and gave me suggestions for other books I should read if I like this one.
I left wanting to write about it, which I'm doing now, because... I feel like these things used to happen much more often, and now they're incredibly rare. We're all a copy of a copy of a copy.
When we meet someone original, it touches us.