Professor Polymath's Rules of Retail

As devoted readers of this column will no doubt remember, my previous communique, "Ants That Wear Pants: Surreality & the Rhyming Couplet," examined that grand and eloquent theatre of stupidity known as The Human Condition. This month, I turn my All-Seeing Eye to a little understood realm of mortal man, where I hope to elucidate the confusing encounters of a strange subculture given to paroxysms of hunting and gathering:

Retail.

At a later date I shall unveil in its entirety my thesis. For now, it is hoped that you, dear reader, will permit me to simply lay out the facts as I see them, verily in all their pithy glory. (I use the microcosm of the bookstore, as it seems an oddity among merchandisers, mostly bereft of the arrogance and dehumanized condition of the haberdashery).

As always, there is a dichotomy. On the one hand, there are "book sellers." On the other, there are "book buyers." As I am wont to do (and judging from the heaps of mail around my ankles you, dear reader, enjoy it as well), I shall become a participant, and give an unbiased, uninhibited first-person account of things as I see them. Inclined as I am to utilize the left side of my brain, please permit me to use lists.

Of the Book Buyer:

1. I know not for what I seek; what is it?
2. I know for what I seek, but cannot remember the title, the author, the subject, or the general appearance; what is it?
3. I am in a dreadful hurry; please ignore everyone else and wait on me. (Often combined with 1, and/or 2).
4. I have not bathed in days; do you have a toilet?
5. I heard about a book on the radio several months ago; what was it?
6. I seek a book about water, where should I look? (Often combined with 4).
7. I seek that one book, you know, that one?
8. I do not realize that I am schizophrenic, please be nice to me!
9. I am not schizophrenic, but it would be easier for everyone if I was!
10. Do you sell hot-dogs?

Of the Book Seller:

1. No.
2. Was it "The Secret?" No?
3. I am not your monkey.
4. Please stop peeing on my floor.
5. Was it "The Secret?" No? Buy whatever Oprah is recommending.
6. I am going to ignore you because your halitosis is truly offending.
7. I know I'm a genius, thanks. No, you cannot have my phone number.
8. *softly* hey you...*a little louder* Hey You...*loudly* THE PAY PHONE IS OUTSIDE!!
9. I will only share my knowledge with you if I am adequately reimbursed.
10. Yes.

Even to the untrained eye in the head containing the mind of a degenerate sub-human it is obvious that more research is required. Why does neither party revolt against their co-dependence? Why do they not realize they are absurd comedy of the lowest possible denominator? The answer, dear reader, is simple.

*ahem* At least it shall be when it is written. You cannot boil water with your mind, as I always say! Until then, feel free to check back soon, when I reveal my latest treatise: "Feasts of Burden: Why We Should Eat Only Donkeys, Mules, and Other Pack Animals."

Intellectually Yours,

P. G. Polymath, PhD.