SellingYour Magazine in an Anarchist Bookstore
"What the hell is this?" Asks Pork Neck, standing before you.
"See? It's all wrong, just like I said," Beard Man exclaims.
"No, no, no," says Pork Neck, settling in at the keyboard.
Neither of them acknowledge your presence. They bicker and banter, gesticulating at a
problem you cannot see and probably wouldn't understand.
"Excuse me," you say, "I just wanted to know who I would talk to about trying to sell issues
of my magazine here?"
"Umm," says Pork Neck. "What kind of magazine is it?"You think his tone leaves something
to be desired, yet you press on.
"It's just a fiction magazine. Just self-published stuff," you say.
"You'd need to talk to our Acquisitions Manager, but she's not in today..." Pork Neck trails off
as he looks past you towards the entrance. An expression of concern flashes across his face
before he exaggeratedly shifts his focus back to the monitor.You turn to look and see a tall,
thin woman with a pixie cut standing by the door.
SellingYour Magazine in an Anarchist Bookstore
"Bullshit, James!" She actually spits as she yells it; you know this because you get sprayed a
little. "You've been giving me the fucking runaround for a month! I just want my cat and the
rest of my shit already. I paid my half of what was left on the lease. Did you renew?"
"No Bobbi," says James. "I'm still looking for somewhere to land," he lowers his voice; you
think because he's trying to get Bobbi to lower hers.
His attempt doesn't work.Your ear starts to hurt as she shouts: "Oh? And when were you
going to tell me that?You know I would've just come and taken Bean and the rest of my stuff
if you hadn't changed the fucking locks as soon as I left! I wouldn't be here, making a scene
while you're at work, if you had just let me have access to my property and my cat."
You're pinned in place now.You need the Acquisitions Manager's contact information, but
you're reticent to disrupt the chaotic drama playing out before you. Bobbi shakes with
emotion next to you; Pork Neck stares into the monitor as though it were a portal to another
world. It's obvious to you that James's beard can't hide the embarrassment and frustration he's
clearly feeling.
"Bobbi, this is fucked up," he half pleads.You feel a little bad for him.
Whatever sympathy you might feel for James, Bobbi clearly does not share because she starts
shouting again.
"James," says Pork Neck without turning his head.You presume Beard Man's name is James.
"What?" Says either James or the beard.You can't really tell.
"Don't look, but Bobbi just walked in. I think she's heading this way."You hear concern in Pork
Neck's voice.
James (or as you've been thinking of him, 'beard life-support') immediately disobeys Pork
Neck's only instruction, then curses with a sigh.
"Here we go again," you hear him mutter.
The woman brushes you slightly as she comes to stand next to you in front of the counter.You
can tell she's some shade of unhappy.
"You know what's really fucked up? Kidnapping my cat and stealing my stuff, James! In fact,
that might actually be the legal definition of fucked up. But you know something? I'm not a
lawyer, so maybe I'll just go hire one to tell me if it is!"
You observe that her threat of legal action seems to turn something inside James. His brow
furrows and the frown he sports is visible despite the beard.
"Oh, so you're going to lawyer up, Bobbi? That's funny.You know, if you're going to do that,
maybe I'll finally go ahead and just file that police report." His expression has turned defiant
before your eyes.
You surmise that Bobbi wasn't expecting that kind of response. She's stiffened up next to you,
her lips pursed. She and James are now locked in a stare-off.Your count almost makes it to ten,
before one of them speaks.
"James," you hear her say with a slight tremor, "can you go on break? I need to talk to you."
"Bobbi, hey," it sounds to you like James is trying to sound casual and failing. "Something is
fucked up with the inventory system. Pork and me are trying to sort it out. I don't know how
long it's going to take. Can you wait a little bit, or come back later?"
"I just want my cat. I don't care that much about the rest of my stuff. When can we work
something out?"You hear Bobbi say with flatter, quieter voice.
"I have to close. I might be able to take a break in a half-hour or so." James's response sounds
gentler to your ears than his threat of filing a police report.