I think they cried.....

I set upon the arduous task of taking my classroom library to Half Price Books (HPB) today. Since I really had no need for eleventy billion books (yes, an exaggeration, but there were too many to count and I like the sound of eleventy billion...you have to admit it has sort of a ring to it) sitting in my 800 square foot apartment, I decided I should try to get some cash for my books. I figured I would end up with $5.00 for my eleventy billion books. I could buy a $5.00 foot long at Subway with that money. That would feed me for two meals. I also thought I could put a gallon and a quarter of gas in my car. That would get me to the gym a few times, possibly to church on Sunday. At least I wouldn't have to deal with tripping over all those books or trying to find a home for all of them.

So, I get to HPB and load up my cart with all the boxes I had in my car. I neglected to mention I had already taken three boxes in to HPB last fall when school started and I had donated two complete classroom sets of books to another school. I had even given one of my friends a crate or two of books last summer since I knew I wouldn't need them when I was teaching 6th grade. I still had several boxes....six altogether. People were coming through the parking lot gawking at me, as I tried to keep the books/boxes on the cart and not blow away in the gusty winds. I was also burning up because it is sort of hot. I was sweating profusely. I no doubt looked like a hot mess.

I got my books in and waited for the HPB staff to decide how much they would give me for my plethora of books. It took the guy over 20 minutes to sort through all of them and put them into categories. I sat there and watched him. I was trying to figure out how they determined what they would pay you. I noticed he put all the little paperbacks together, the teacher type books, picture books, etc. That gave me no real idea of how they decide how much to give you, but I did realize it made their job a lot easier when they went to price them and put them on the shelf for sale. I am sure they just give you a flat rate for all the paperbacks, picture books, etc and then add them all up. I wanted to ask, but I felt like that was being too nosy. Maybe the employees are sworn to some double secret oath to not divulge the formula. Like they said in the movie Fight Club, "The first rule of Fight Club is - you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is - you DO NOT talk about Fight Club." I bet the employees are told "The first rule of HPB is you do not talk about how we determine price the of books. The second rule of HPB is- you DO NOT talk about how we determine the price of the books." I bet if they do, they get their ears chopped off, or maybe they get some form of torture. Maybe they are forever banished to the back room with all the books, using the pricing gun to affix price tags. That would be like purgatory. Kind of like the guy on the Dunkin Donuts commercial who always says "Time to make the donuts.' but at HPB, you would say "Time to price the books." Why do I have this feeling this whole thing is a lot funnier to me than it is to anyone else? I guess because I was there and I am completely random.

After I waited in the comfy red chair for what seemed like forever, they finally called my name for my "offer." Mr. HPB announced my offer was $23.00. $23.00 for my eleventy billion books, which happened to be nearly 5 times more than I thought I would get. I told Mr. HPB I would take his offer and gladly skip to the register to collect my cash. He then pointed to a box of books they couldn't take because they were either damaged or really old, or they were used library books. He said "I put them in the box so you could carry them back to your car." Excuse me? Did you say I was going to carry those back to my car?? Did you not understand when I brought these books in, after wrestling with the boxes against the wind and sweating like a pig in your parking lot, I never intended to take anything but some cash home in my Kenneth Cole Wallet. Which the last time I checked, was not large enough for any books. I looked at him and said "I am not taking those back with me. I don't want them." I didn't want to tell him I was too lazy to put them back in my car and haul them up to my apartment. So, Mr. HPB said they would dispose of them for me. I don't care what they were doing with them, just as long as I didn't have to deal with them anymore.

I took my happy ass to the cash register at the front of the store and traded my receipt for some dinero. I carefully avoided looking at any books because I knew some how, I would end up buying them and negating the whole reason for going to HPB in the first place, which was to make some money and get rid of books. As I walked out of the store, I had to pass by my books which were all stacked on the counter. They looked so lonely sitting up there in stacks. They weren't all grouped together in my nice little baskets on the shelves of my classroom. They weren't my books anymore....now they belonged to HPB and some day, they would belong to someone else. I sort of got a little nostalgic for a second. I had a lot of memories with those books and the kids who loved to read them. Their little faces flashed through my mind for a split second. I had to walk away because it made me a little sad. As I opened the door to leave, I swear, I think my books were crying....maybe that was me getting choked up...perhaps I had something in my eye?? I don't know. I had to focus on the fact that I had $23.00 in my wallet and I could buy four foot long subs from Subway, or about six gallons of gas for my car or any of the other endless ways I could spend those greenbacks. I am slowly making the metamorphosis from teacher to what ever I am supposed to be. Don't worry, I did keep a few of my favorite books, so I am not bookless, just not book logged.
Until next time, Diva Divine