Having worked at Green Apple for a very long time, I have come to realize that I mark off my life in the seasons of the store: holiday decorations go up, I'm a year older. Calendar bins come back from storage, I'm a year older. James Patterson has a new book out, I'm 3 weeks older. And so I thought, if I were a hermit living under the stairs in the store, and I only came out at night after all of the customers and booksellers were gone, I would have a pretty good idea what time of year it was. Lots of books on display about love and kissing- must be coming on February. Big display of books about how great moms are, May must be around the corner, and I know that soon the military history and sports books will be coming in for Father's Day.
Calendar bins have been packed away and the
children's section has returned to its former glory
children's section has returned to its former glory
But there would be other things the observant hermit would know about the world outside from the safety of the bookstore. After Sept. 11, our Middle Eastern history section grew from a handful of books into its very own full bookcase, and now has shrunk down to half of that. As W.'s popularity waned in 2003, books that looked unfavorably on the president popped up like mushrooms in the store and, on Nov. 3 of 2004, they all disappeared overnight as W. won reelection and nobody (at least not Green Apple customers) seemed to think he was funny anymore. And then with the financial meltdown of 2008, books on economics and financial catastrophe were all the rage.
And so the moral of this story is, if you're going to hide away from the world underneath the stairs of a retail establishment, there are worse places you could do it than at Green Apple.
And so the moral of this story is, if you're going to hide away from the world underneath the stairs of a retail establishment, there are worse places you could do it than at Green Apple.