I had a long day at work. My current life as a temp consisted of locking myself away to print and collate training manuals for an advertising firm. Yes, I know. Exciting life, right? I live on the opposite side of the city so when I finally ripped myself away from the mountain of paper I was simply too hungry to go straight home.
I stopped by the diner down the block and ordered a grilled cheese with sweet pickles on the side. I quietly ate and decided that I wanted to indulge in my secret obsession, vintage science fiction and fantasy novels. I have read them since I was a kid. A quick search on my phone revealed a comic book shop two blocks over that carried vintage pulp. I love the city, everything you could possibly think of, condensed in one vast place.
It didn't take me long to walk over, the evening was cool and I had on a pair of peep toe patent leather heels that wouldn't make me regret wearing them at the end of the day. The long brick row of connected shopfronts spanned the entire block. The sun was beginning to set just as I got to the shop, I looked at my watch and it was a quarter past seven. The sign on the door said the shop closed at eight, so I figured I would go in, quickly browse the shelves, grab a few titles, and be on my way.
The shop consisted of four rooms. There was the main room I was standing in that held all the comics, novelties, and collectibles, and three smaller rooms connected at the back via archways. There were a few people browsing, quietly leafing through pages, engrossed in whatever realm their heroes resided. I started making my way towards the center of the room and a male in a well worn Star Wars tee and jeans walks up to me.
"Hi there, is there anything I can help you with?" He had one hand in his pocket, arm straight. The other he used to absently ruffle his hair.
He seemed eager. He was handsome in that fanboy sort of way. Tall, with a shaggy mane of hair that reached his chin, and over a day's worth of stubble. His eyes were a stony gray, quite striking when his pale skin came into play. He reminded me of an actor on one of those syndicated criminal profiler shows I sometimes watched on my evenings in.
"Hi, I found this place online. I am actually looking for the vintage pulp and fantasy books area. I am guessing they're somewhere near the back?"
"They sure are. Go to the end of this row and take a left," he said as he walked me towards a row of shelves that housed action figures. He leaned close to me as we moved, and gently put his hand around my waist but pulled it away. He must have been afraid he'd overstepped a boundary. He smelled like ink and pricey department store cologne. I was enamored by this combination. "It is the last den in the back."
I found myself in a bookworm's heaven. There were ten bookshelves lining the walls, three double-sided library style shelves in the center, and a worn leather chair for reading nestled within. Every shelf was brimming with books from the 1940s onward.
I browsed the shelves for a while, pulling several titles out for purchase. I was entranced by a trashy detective novel, so I sat down in the chair to read a few pages. I lost track of time. I was about forty pages in and in the middle of the first sex scene when the lights above me went out.
"Hey!" I startled. "Somebody is still back here!"
A voice rang out from the front of the store, "Whoops, my bad, I thought everybody had gone." and half of the rear lights came back on.
I gathered my small stack of books and proceeded to the left side of the store where the counter was positioned. He met me at the counter and started ringing my order up. "You've really got great taste," he said "a few of these are favorites of mine".
