It
was only felt by me I think, I guess, of course, because I was the only one who
knew what was happening. But these are the things you asked for on the phone:
Favorite Moments:
Shelving
in Poetry a month in
I
found two books of the same title by T
I quickly
walked to the register and put them in the hands of the employee D
He
said, where did you find these?
I
said Poetry
He
said, I want one while not taking his eyes off them
I
said ok
I
paid for mine on the spot
When
Marianne Faithful purred at me: “You’re a gooood girl.”
The
day a litter of stray kittens spent the day in the store.
Being
interviewed by G and old my migraine trigger problem happened right then,
incredible, I had an inkling on the bus ride over, this condition: my eye
waters heavily and feels like an acid breeze is passing over my face and he
looked at me with a quizzical expression and I finally said, “don’t worry you
haven’t done this to me. Yet.” He laughed and handed me the name of the private
investigator.
When
my
instincts told me to talk to a stranger lady that walked in as the
first
customer of the day and through her, a tourist from Lincoln Nebraska, I
found
out someone I used to know, and loved, had died. I was able to get in
touch
with the parents of this person and later heard the story that when S
was about
to fade away she sat up straight in her hospital bed and looked at them
and
said, “Don’t speak. Be quiet” and then laid back down and died. Her
death made them go deeply towards their religious roots. S was stunning. She had
the sleek broad shoulders of a swimmer, a great throaty voice, and giant eyes. People would stop her in
airports and public places to get a better look. Also, she had BALLS.
And:
Peter
Falk walking out the front door and stopped to do a Colombo, “Tell me one
thing…” He WAS wearing a trench coat and no one was around but it did happen.
