The Borders Express at the airport exists to sell James Patterson and Danielle Steel books, and other best sellers. It's an airport. People want to get in and get out, or so I thought. I stopped in this morning to pick up some headphones for my iPod (nothing else - there's a moratorium on all book-buying until I've read all the stuff that I've got in backlog, and I think I'm just going to have to borrow this infernal Harry Potter book from someone - four sightings of it on the way to Chicago this morning alone.)
Anyway, the man in front of me, clearly lost at BWI on the way to the Library of Congress, sidled up to the information desk/cash register and approached the sole bookseller in the place, cutting in front of several people holding single papebacks they can take on the PLANE, because hello they're in the AIRPORT. He asks if, among the relative 10 percent of a normal store's inventory this tiny place has, 50 percent of which is mystery/thriller, they carry "The Art of the Knife."
At first I thought it was James Patterson's new book. Then the lady leaves the line to go to the computer to look it up, clearly not recognizing the title, and he says, rocking back and forth, "Yeah, it's a book about knives. Collectible knives. Knives as art. I'm not even sure if it's released yet."
Knives as art?
To her credit, she looked it up for him, and finally said, "No, sir, I don't see it. You'll probably have to look in a larger store." I added, but not out loud, "tool."