Friends English and Otherwise,

For too long I have been away from you, and for that I apologise without hesitation. Now that you have hopefully accepted my apology, I shall go some way to letting you know what I have been doing since I last typed words for you.

Those of you good people who read my last ramble will, no doubt, remember that it was with great resentment that I set about looking for some form of proper work. Not that what I do is not proper you understand, but small poetry books and their attendant duties do not always come up trumps as far as the tiny figures that make up my bank balance are concerned.

Well, I’m pleased to report that I have found work. And what’s more it’s quite ok. There are three good things about it. The first is that I only work 20 hours a week. The second is that I can wear what I like for those 20 hours. The third is that I spend those 20 hours wearing what I like in a bookshop. This is ideal for me as it means I get to take lots of books off shelves and read them whilst I’m in my jeans. Alas, there are also two downsides. One is that I have to wear a name badge with ‘Happy to Help’ emblazoned on it. I can assure you that at 6.00pm on a Saturday evening I am far from happy to help. The other downside is that I have to regularly suffer the indignity of selling the sort of books that should be top fodder for a Nazi style book burning. A book burning I would be happy to organise, by the way. The sort of toilet paper I mean, are (in no particular order)

Richard Hammond’s autobiography (a book that would have never been written had he been a good driver).

Lewis Hamilton’s biography (a book that would have never been written had he been a bad driver).

Various books about upsetting and tough childhoods (they are classed as ‘misery memoirs’ on our database, which I rather like).

I have talked at some length with a friend about this upsetting aspect of my job, and I must say, he has a rather positive and refreshing attitude. He says that even though I sell many books that I would not personally choose, the fact that people are reading at all is the important thing to remember. He’s right of course, but then again he’s not spent a whole Saturday repeatedly handing out ‘Ross Kemp on Gangs’ to monosyllabic tracksuit wearing customers.

You can only imagine therefore, the glee I feel when someone pops up at the till and buys something that is actually quite good. In fact, if the book the customer is buying is actually quite good and I’ve also read it, then…….well, we’ll have a lovely chat and pass the time of day. Sometimes when they leave the shop I’ll also give them a cheery wave, just to show them that I respect their book choice.

Something else that is quite interesting about working in a bookshop is the variety of questions that the punters throw at you. Some of my favourites start with the customer looking into my eyes and saying, “I’m looking for a book.” The desire to reply with sheer shock often comes to the fore. Some of my other favourite questions are the ones where a rather stupid individual comes up to you and says something along the lines of, “I’m looking for a book with a green cover. I don’t know the title or the author, but it has a fat bloke who wears a jumper as the main character.” And then they expect me (on a mere £5.56 an hour) to solve the ridiculous question that they have been too stupid or idle to research on the internet.

But all questions are not stupid. Some are simply golden gems. Here are my three favourites that I have been asked since I started pressing buttons on a cash register.

1. What audiobook would you recommend for an 85 year old with short-term memory loss?
2. I want to read an autobiography, but it must only be sad in the middle. What do you suggest?
3. What board game would suit a couple of gay men?

So, you can see, I’m having enormous fun. And that in short is why I have not been writing much. Well, that’s not true. I’ve actually been writing a fair deal, especially as I have just returned from a rather sunny little island in the Atlantic, where I worked on my latest poetry book whilst smoking cheap cigarettes and watching whales play about in the ocean. But I digress into an area where I shall not go. Reading about other people’s holidays is, after all, a truly dull experience.

So, it is only left for me to say that I shall write soon, and I hope that you are all truly well.

Peace, love and wellbeing to all,

Phil