It’s true that I was a teenager once — even over a sustained period of time that literally lasted years. And I can remember when the mall would close down around nine o’ clock and my friends and I would show ourselves out, and then be at a bewildering loss of things to do. Granted, this was late evening in a city of half a million people, but this city was Colorado Springs.
But just across the street was the bookstore, cars still lining its parking lot, the building’s lights still humming their orange glow. Operational for just another hour, it was public shelter that wasn’t Denny’s.
Closing shifts remind me that for most people that time of night, the bookstore is merely a staging area for where you’re going next. Maybe you’ll flip through the PostSecret books and remark on how sad and messed up people are. Or, if you’re a group of girls, you head straight to the books about sex and begin to talk unnaturally loudly so that everyone knows you’re over there.
Sometimes the way to kill time is to move things around for yucks. And you know what I’m talking about.
Most visitors obey their first instinct and snag a volume of Letters to Penthouse or Tickle His Pickle and head to the Children’s department for a bit of creative reshelving. Sure, it might seem funny to find among the What’s Happening to My Body puberty books a copy of The Multiple Male Orgasm, but I’m telling you it’s old hat. We know it’ll be there.
To be amusing anymore, you ought to reverse this process. Take books from other sections and put them in the Sexuality display.
Here are some of my favorite titles to have actually discovered lounging with the Kama Sutras and oral sex instruction guides:
Maybe it’s unwise to encourage visitors to mess with me. But honestly, it’ll happen anyway, and because it will, why not suggest more creativity in the practice? I say.