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July 20, 2006 In-between working as a Nurse and going to Law School I bought a bookstore in California. It was a longtime dream of mine to work in a bookstore so when the opportunity arose for me to actually own one I jumped at the chance. I had a fantasy that I would spend my days reading and relaxing and this seemed like the perfect job for an avid reader like myself. I was wrong. Aside from having to receive shipments on a daily basis, having to shelve said shipments, box up returns and take care of the every day chores that are involved in owning a business, there were other problems that I had no clue about. The very first day that I took over ownership a sleazy looking man came through the back door of the store with a cigar dangling from his mouth. He looked like a Damon Runyon character and sounded like Marlon Brando in "The Godfather". He approached the counter and gestured for me to follow him. Of course, I wasn't about to follow some weird looking guy anywhere so I asked him what he wanted. He informed me that "the truck" was parked in the back parking lot and if I wanted my "stuff" I'd better get a move on. "Stuff...?" what Stuff", I thought (out loud unfortunately). His look told me that I should know what he was talking about but I didn't. I should digress a bit here and tell you that my little, friendly, family bookstore carried an assortment of adult magazines and books. They were hidden in an area adjacent to the counter and kept out of sight by a French door. I knew from the previous owner that these materials were purchased for pennies and sold for big bucks and that they would pay the rent and most of the overhead but I had not really put much thought into how they got there or who would deliver them...not until the guy with the cigar showed up, that is. He informed me that he had the "Porn" and that I needed to come out to his truck to select what I wanted. Uh oh.....me picking out porn? I had never even looked at the "stuff" let alone picked it out. The few months that I worked with the previous owner prior to buying the store I had never had anything to do with that aspect of the business and he never bothered to enlighten me. No one could accuse me of being savvy or prepared before I bought the store...I just wanted it. I eventually followed him out to the parking lot as there were no customers in the store at the time and he opened the back doors of a white non-descript truck. There was no name to identify where it came from or what was in it but I was soon to find out. As I climbed up the step and into the truck I was gobsmacked and mind-boggled. All I could see were tushies and boobs and male genitalia wherever I looked. They were in bright, bold colors and there was little left to the imagination. I spun in circles and thought that I would die of embarrassment but my Marlon Brando sound-a-like saved me just as I was about to run screaming back into the safety of the store. He asked me if he should just pick the "usual assortment of what sells best" and I said yes so fast that my head hurt. He brought in several piles of private parts (at least on paper) and but them on the shelves in the hidden room for me and I was grateful. When I took out my checkbook to pay him he shook his head and said, "No checks, Ma'am, cash only". I wasn't about to argue so I opened the till and paid in cash. Mostly, I just wanted it to be over with and for him to leave so I was more than willing to comply with his request. From that moment forward and for as long as I owned the store, he delivered the "stuff" and I paid in cash. We NEVER exchanged another word and I soon discovered that the adult material did indeed pay the overhead on the store and then some. It made me a profit of about 150% which is unheard of when dealing with newspapers, magazines and books. It was a necessary evil. There was a "community law" in existence back then and what that meant is that if the community didn't object to my selling the material I could do so without being hassled. No one ever objected and hardly anyone except for the regular buyers of such material even knew where I kept it. One guy purchased about $200 per week worth of the stuff and several other characters bought almost as much. I would have had to sell almost all of the normal magazines and books that I stocked to make anywhere near the profit that came from the tushies and the boobs and the male genitalia. It was not a comfortable situation and I admit that there was a bit of guilt associated with carrying this type of material but business is business and I had to pay the rent. I am proud to say that not one single child under the age of consent ever went near the hidden stash and no one ever complained. I even had police officers who were regular buyers. I want to hasten to add that they purchased the tushies and the boobs and NOT the male genitalia; at least not that I was aware of. On my first Christmas as a bookstore owner I had another rather odd experience and it was about the time when we were hanging samples of calendars all over the store. There were calendars of every variety and the biggest sellers were Playboy and anything tied to Star Trek, The Movie. I even had a copy of the Star Trek Calendar behind me in the counter area because it was such a hot seller. One day a few days before Christmas I was sitting quietly behind my counter reading a book (yes, I did occasionally get to read), when a man approached me and said a friendly, "Hello". I smiled and responded with "Merry Christmas" and I noticed that as he was placing his purchases (no porn, by the way), on the counter he kept looking over my head. I thought it a bit odd but was oblivious to what was going on until he stopped what he was doing and pointed to the calendar on the back wall...the one with William Shatner as Captain Kirk on the front of it. I finally turned around and followed his gaze to the calendar in question and it suddenly dawned on me that the man in front of me WAS William Shatner. He didn't look like the good Captain or even like William Shatner because he wasn't tall, was quite over-weight and bald. This was no handsome Starship Captain....just a dumpy, small man who was unrecognizable. Because my store was located in an area of of the San Fernando Valley that housed many celebrities I was used to many of them coming in to my store so I thought fast and said, "It's so nice to meet you in person Mr. Shatner." Phew....close call. He smiled a satisfied grin and said, "Call me Bill". I did from then on because he became a frequent customer. I have written down every one of my adventures in bookland and someday I hope to publish them, but for now...this will have to do. I miss that place (which is now a used sporting goods store) and whenever I get the opportunity to travel back to the Valley I ride past it and feel nostalgic. ------------ About the author: Meri has a Medical/Legal background and is a former forensic researcher specializing in psychological profiling. https://www2.xlibris.com/bookstore/bookdisplay.asp?bookid=27335 Email: writers2@cox.net Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com. Please link to this article rather than copying and pasting it onto your site (which would be unauthorized and illegal). |
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