Confessions of a Curious Bookseller(44)



Much love,

Fawn Windsor



Fawn Birchill/CuriousCatBooks/5m

Mention #Downton Abbey and receive 25% discount on #Victorian Era #novels! (We do not have #Downton Abbey DVDs.)



From: Mark Nilsen

Sent: Thu, Jan 24, 2019 at 11:45 PM

To: Fawn Birchill

Subject: Police

Hi Fawn,

Our decibel levels are not violating any ordinances. I don’t understand why you feel the need to keep calling the police.

I will try to stop by tomorrow, though I’m sure your employees will feed me the usual line that you are out.

Mark

From: Fawn Birchill

Sent: Fri, Jan 25, 2019 at 10:09 AM

To: Mark Nilsen

Re: Police

Dear Mark,

The police are simply doing their job. If your events are so loud that they are called, it is not my problem nor am I the one to blame. Perhaps, as I said before, you can ask your guests to reel in the enthusiasm. I do not know who called the police on your extremely loud event, but I assure you on my mother’s life it was not me. (And I’ll have you know that my mother and I are very close, and so I don’t throw that around lightly!) Fawn Birchill, Owner, The Curious Cat Book Emporium (a The Adventures of Tom Sawyer specialist store)



From: Fawn Birchill

Sent: Fri, Jan 25, 2019 at 8:56 PM

To: Staff

Subject: Raises

Dear Staff,

Thank you for following up in person regarding the status of your pay increases. Yes, you are all excellent employees. You are loyal and take the success of this business very seriously. Sadly, I am unable to give you raises this year. Yes, I said I was considering it, and especially given the fact that you came forward about Mark’s unwanted visit the other day, you certainly deserve it. But thanks to Mark’s business, money is tight. You can blame him for your lack of a raise if you’d like to blame anyone. I’m sure you’ve seen the change in customer volume since he’s moved in. And yes, of course it’s a painful pill to swallow, but I believe that things will turn around when they realize his store is no different than mine and quite frankly, not as good. Simply having more cats does not a successful store make.

I am sorry I am unable to give you raises this year, but I believe if we stick with it, we will see a greater possibility of a raise in 2020.

Sincerely,

Fawn, Owner



Fawn Birchill/CuriousCatBooks/3m

Fawn here! Who loves #learning? Stop by today ONLY for a 50% discount on #Encyclopedias published before 1975!



January 25, 2019

Januarys are hard. The only thing worse than January is February, and the only thing worse than either is attempting to get through them sober. That is not to say I’m a lush. I would be mortified if someone found these ramblings and assumed such a thing. Truly, I say this in jest, but as with all humorous musings, therein lies truth. Now that the holidays—which bring their own cavalcade of issues—are over, most nights I am opening and polishing off a bottle of red by the defunct fireplace. There are always years in which I’m tempted to try to get through these two months without fumbling through the cabinets for my liquid crutch, but I am either too weak or too stuck in my ways. I suppose there are worse ways to spend evenings alone. And when the wind whistles through the cracks in the panes and the building groans and pops from the pipes, I sit in my chair with my blanket, Butterscotch, a book, and my booze and I do not feel alone at all. Not at all.

Lately my mind wanders to Jane. I find myself going into her apartment to see how she is fairing in these dark, drawn-out months. The woman is a real trouper—she seems as content in January as she does in May. I would stay longer and have considered bringing her some wine or at least a deck of cards, but I hold back. I am not so good with face-to-face interaction. Perhaps this is all thanks to the many years I spent ringing up local regulars and passing-through strangers alike, when I had to engage in small talk and occasionally bear the brunt of their bad day. Once my father told me, after watching me engage for a longer time than usual with a young man, that no one really wanted to speak to me and that it’s best to let them get on with their day. The way he put it, I was holding the man hostage, even though—at least as best as I can remember—he was the one asking me the questions. I never saw him again. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that I never saw him again, I mean. I do remain rather baffled, though, that the first truly kind person who ever seemed interested in what I had to say was shooed off like a dog picking up scraps around tables at a restaurant. He was right, after all. When engaging in transactions, be they business or personal, people don’t really want to lollygag. Especially with someone like me who is “better off keeping her nose to the grindstone,” as my father put it.

The more I drink on these cold nights, the louder his voice becomes. But at the same time, the more ridiculous it sounds.

I have half a bottle remaining and then another in the pantry. It should last me the rest of the week until I can get back to the liquor store. I would like to say they know me by name there, but the cashier thinks my name is Fran no matter how many times I’ve shown him my ID. I don’t have the heart to correct him since I have to see him every Sunday.



From: Kyle Krazinsky

Sent: Mon, Jan 28, 2019 at 8:36 AM

To: Fawn Birchill, Staff

Re: Inventory Update

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