There’s a lot of concern that Borders, the store that really started the “sit-here-and-read-for-as-long-as-you-like” practice which led to every self-respecting brick-and-mortar book store containing a coffee shop/café and couches, may be in enough trouble to have to close their doors.
I’ve heard a lot of speculation, especially about that idea that most of their troubles have been caused by discount sales at BigBox stores, the spread of online-shopping, the nook, the kindle, the iPad, and the fact that Borders doesn’t have their own version.
I have a different theory.
I have never, in all of my years of trying, managed to successfully place an order online. Whether with or without a gift card, I really don’t think it can be done. You’ve written down your name and password, it doesn’t work. You have a new gift card you received from some generous piano students (thank you, btw), the numbers aren’t “recognized.” One time I managed to effectively place an order, I believe for Margarat Atwood’s Penelopiad, and several days later I received a travel guide to Zambia. I’m not kidding. When I called about sending it back in exchange for the book I had ordered (which was, btw, correctly listed on the invoice; apparently whoever was packing the book failed to notice that the title of the book on the invoice and the title of the book on the book had absolutely nothing to do with each other) I was told not to bother sending it back.
Imagine if they made that mistake for more than one customer a week.
That can’t be helping.
Guess I better hurry up and try to spend that gift card I got last month. . .maybe the collection of Saul Bellow’s letters. I’ll just create a new name and password so I don’t have to reset the old one that I can’t remember. Now I’ll enter those 16 digits from the back of the card. . .
In a related story: at a party last night a woman I had just met was carrying a book about herbs and spices she had recently loaned to our hostess. As a foodie, I asked her if I could have a look at it. She mentioned that she had heard of it, had checked it out at the local bookstore, and then went home and ordered it from Amazon. She says, with a little chuckle, “I probably shouldn’t do that, but it’s cheaper.” I wanted to say, I should have said, “you know, if, everybody did that, S_________’s wouldn’t be there anymore;” but I didn’t. I wish I had. I will next time. What is wrong with these people? Is it ALL about the $1.47 you can save by buying it from Amazon?