February, 2010

The Beauty of a Pun is in the Oy of the Beholder

-Isaac Asimov

A bookstore is a great place to people watch, and it's fun to mentally guess what they're after. (Rather like "Harriet the Spy," where Harriet eavesdrops and tries to guess what people look like. She wasn't always accurate. Neither am I. But it's still fun.)

Ducky particularly loves to hang out at the store and just…watch. (And talk, lol.)

"Excuse me?" I looked up from the stack of ledger cards I was updating. The young woman in front of me had gorgeous "wild woman" hair (I just look like I washed my hair and stuck a finger in a light socket), and was wearing an old, clearly beloved t-shirt with a red, white and blue flag and the legend CZECH above it. "Do you have any books on—" She frowned. "Um…where words…come from?"

"Etymology?" I suggested. She nodded hesitantly. "Bookcase L, on the south side of the bookcase, about halfway back from the main aisle. It's near the chair with the fabric with lighthouses on it." She smiled gratefully and half-skipped off. I heard Ducky greet her and hoped she'd actually get to her destination and not be delayed too long.

It was a good Saturday, a steady stream of newbies and old-timers, both. After about half an hour, Ducky joined me at the front desk and started making noises about taking me out to lunch. No fool, I—I headed back toward Gardening to get Chanda to cover the front desk when I heard the door jingle behind me. "Hi—I think my wife came in—"

"Etymology," Ducky said animatedly. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a young man heading toward the back of the store. I distractedly asked Chanda to cover for me, and grabbed my purse from the office.

Ducky and I headed out the back door toward the car. "How did you know?" I asked.

"Know what?"

I leaned on the roof of the Saturn. "The woman who came in looking for books on Etymology?" He nodded. "She's a brand new customer." He nodded again. "So how did you know the guy who came in was her husband?"

He gave me a bright smile. "Did you see her t-shirt?"

I thought for a minute. "Yeah. The old Czech Republic flag."

"Mm-hmm. He had the same flag—but labeled Czech Mate."

I leaned my forehead onto my crossed wrists and groaned.