This is the story of when I volunteered at the Newberry Library’s Book Fair.
It was reported they had over 100,000 used books on sale.
As a Floating Book Minder, I touched at least 50,000 of them.
I’d been in Chicago for two years and it was time to Give Back to the Community. I figured that by volunteering for the Newberry I could add a gloss of faux braniac-ism to my oeuvre.
See? Brainy. I would look good hanging out there.
When I showed up for the book fair I was given a smart red apron and a common looking white t-shirt that would establish my temporary status as a volunteer. I asked the nice ladies at the volunteer desk if I had to wear the t-shirt. They said they would really, really like it if I did.
I asked the ladies what I would be doing.
You’re a Floating Book Minder.
What is that, exactly?
Well, you straighten up the books in the rooms. After people have messed them up by looking through them.
Do I have a particular room?
No, you float.
OK.
I ditched the t-shirt in my locker the first chance I got and headed for the quietest room with the fewest people and no other Book Minders in it.
That made me the sole Travel/Architecture/Science/Foreign Language Book Minder.
I straightened the books. It was easy. I smiled at people if we happened to be looking at each other at the same time. I tried to keep eight feet away from customers so I wasn’t like some sort of royal maid, straightening up directly behind his lordship or her ladyship.
It wasn’t long before I began to feel I had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I kept touching the books. So many books... I kept them Super-Minded. I was unstoppable.
I decided to float. In larger rooms there might be as many as 10 other Book Minders... we followed one another at 20 foot intervals through the rows of tables and the stacks along the walls. It was as if they weren’t capable of doing the job right and I was there to tidy after them. And the one behind me tidied up after me and so on and so forth.
I got a little too close to a browsing customer and said, “Pardon, me, I’m just straightening up here.”
“Well, you’re doing a very good job of it.”
Finally. Some recognition.
“Are you finding any good books to buy?” I asked her.
“God no! I’m not buying any books today.”
And because she was a character of sorts in her older, short-cool-haircut and overlarge round glasses way I inquired in a voice filled with deadpan disgust: “Then just why are you here, lady?”
She didn’t skip a beat: “Oh, just to be part of the fray. I moved into a studio last year and I can’t have any more books. None. At all.”
We briefly discussed the Chicago Library System. I told her about the Bughouse Square debates-- a series of speeches given throughout the day by social reformers going on in front of the Newberry that very day. Hecklers are very welcome, I told her. She was pleased about that last bit and said, “I should very much like to do some heckling today.”
We said our goodbyes and I returned to Travel/Architecture/Science/Foreign Language.
“Dammit!” I wanted to yell, “What the hell had been going on in here?” Books were askew and even willy nilly. Catawumpus for sure, no doubt bedlam had fingered at least half the titles...
Part Two Coming Soon: The Squirreling Area