Confessions of a Curious Bookseller(79)



All the best,

Fawn, Owner, The Curious Cat Book Emporium



From: Fawn Birchill

Sent: Wed, Jun 19, 2019 at 7:24 PM

To: Mark Nilsen

Subject: Warning: Cat Bully

Dear Mark,

A phillysmallbiz.com user that goes by the name of Stefanie C. came into my store, threw Bert off his couch, and then complained that he lashed out at her and scratched her. I know Bert to be harmless except to mice, so I take her story rather skeptically. I wanted to warn you about her and to ask that you watch her closely if she comes into your store and interacts with your cats. She might be cruel to them as well and then act surprised when they defend themselves. Looks like this woman might be running a racket where she goes to stores, gets “hurt” by the animals there, and requests reparations. She hasn’t yet gone that far with me, but I fear she might so I wanted to give you a fair warning.

Best,

Fawn

From: Mark Nilsen

Sent: Wed, Jun 19, 2019 at 8:09 PM

To: Fawn Birchill

Re: Warning: Cat Bully

Hi Fawn,

Thanks so much for the heads up on this. It’s a shame people behave this way.

Best wishes,

Mark



From: Fawn Birchill

Sent: Tue, Jul 2, 2019 at 4:09 PM

To: Mark Nilsen

Subject: Apologies

Dear Mark,

Though we spoke briefly, I wanted to also express my apologies in writing. In no way did I ask that Jack go into your store and, when the coast was clear, take down your Ian McEwan sign only to put it up in my store window. This preposterous idea is only something that could have come from the—dare I say—simple mind of this young man. He means well, so I ask that you please forgive him. Because his actions do secondarily represent my store, please forgive me as well.

I hope the sign has been returned in a favorable condition.

Best,

Fawn



July 3, 2019

I worry that Jack winning the employee of the year award has inspired him to take extreme measures in the betterment of this store. It’s one thing to go through the garbage to retrieve old unwanted signage, but it’s quite another to go to the Grumpy Mug in the middle of the day and take their posters out of the windows. The saddest thing in all this is that, just like the time he ran the Brillo pad over my wood floors, he has no idea what he did wrong. To reprimand him would be like reprimanding a dog for eating his own vomit—it’s just in his nature. And it is in Jack’s nature to care so greatly about what he is involved in. I believe it is something he inherited from his parents who are nothing but philanthropic.

In a way, Jack did a good thing in that he forced me to face my fears. These many months I have been avoiding that store, refusing to step inside out of fear that I might just love it.

The place simply struck me. I don’t know how else to put it. Stepping inside is like stepping into the comfort of your own home. Virtually everyone is friendly. It is well staffed and well organized, and it smells of coffee and paper. Once in a while, interrupting the jazz or classical music, one can hear the espresso machine brewing. I was lucky enough to see all five cats and found them to be absolutely adorable, calm, and friendly. One cat that, according to her collar, goes by the name of Scooch, came up and sat beside me on one of the sofas. She is a longhaired black cat with a white mark on her chest. She simply sat beside me and stared at me, as if peering into my soul. I pet her for some time while leafing through a coffee-table book on Australia. The other cats—Hero, Captain Flint, Lilly, and Shadow—walked by, their tails swishing with purpose. I didn’t get a chance to meet them all, but one of the employees was kind enough to tell me their names.

I gave this same employee the stolen sign and asked to speak to Mark, who promptly came down from the second floor to greet me.

He said, “Scooch is never so friendly. She must really like you.” It thrilled me to get such a compliment. I immediately apologized for the stolen sign. If he was upset, he didn’t show it.

After finishing my business there, I didn’t want to leave. And when I walked back up the street to my store and looked at it, trying to see it as a customer and not as a biased owner, something overcame me. It was a sense of desolation—as if while everyone else went one way, I had taken a wrong turn and found myself abandoned on a middle-of-nowhere road. Rainbow was performing tricks outside at the time and must have sensed my sadness, because she approached me and produced a bouquet of plastic flowers from her mouth. What a kind, thoughtful gesture. She insisted that I keep them, and so they are sitting with me at my kitchen table as I drink a glass of wine.

Sometimes I can’t help but see the similarities between Mark and me. Like me, he clearly cares deeply for his business, and so how can I blame him? If the circumstances were different—if we weren’t directly down the street from each other, if he didn’t make it so difficult—it’s possible we’d get along, but I’m afraid I’ll never know this for sure. I believe we are kindred spirits, caught on different sides of the battle lines. But alas, battle we must.





THE CURIOUS CAT BOOK EMPORIUM


Blog Post #6

A Tale of Two Kitties!

For our second entry of the month we will compare and contrast the late and beloved Butterscotch and the lively Bert!





From: Fawn Birchill

Elizabeth Green's Books