Ode to the Discount Books

(or, Lit Slut has a cold and isn't capable of coming up with anything good. Sleep deprivation equals humor? What? Who? )

Hi, My name is Lit Slut.

(Hiiiiiii, lit slut.)
I am addicted to discounted books


What is it with discounted books? Regular price, 20-25 (on average) books, we can run away from. I can go 'I only have 40 bucks, so I can only buy two- I'll think another day on which two of the two hundred they'll be this time'.
But when there's that little sticker shouting '3.99! Buy me! You won't get this chance again!'
Well, I'm not one to disobey a sticker. They hold a certain kind of authority.

And if they have an ADDITIONAL sticker, on top of the original sale one- proclaiming 'seriously, Lit Slut. Nobody wanted me. I'm so cheap, I feel so lonely. Please take me home and shelve me, allowing me to warm myself between your friendly books. Please!'

I can't help it. I am a weird person, yes, but I feel responsible! I feel compelled! I should take it home! I must! Why not? Who is it hurting? (wow, excessive punctuation. Sorry e.e. cummings, it's not in the poetic way, it's simply passion, or insanity. Take your pick. Moving on..)

Plus, the fact that I work in a coffee shop attached to a huge book retailer does not help. It does not help at all. All you book store employees? Stop me! I have an addiction! You are enablers, you lot!

Kidding. You're all lovely. I'm a huge fan of the vests.

I'm not going to lie and say I don't find cool things. I found a wicked copy of The Canterbury Tales, a classic I've been meaning to buy for a long time, not in paperback but in oversized hardcover. Three columns per page, illustrations at the beginning of every tale, it's glorious. I adore it.

A small book of Chesterton essays, which I blame a certain english teacher on exposing me to.

The Iliad, to snuggle nicely next to the Odyssey, a greek duet made in the heavens.

Well, I look at it this way- if I hadn't bought them, I wouldn't have enough reading material to get me through this gross common cold. (The cold is another pet peeve of mine- it's common! It's boring! Saying 'I have a cold' is way less interesting than whimpering 'I have a rare disease that turns me a vibrant magenta.' Moving on! Oh, the post is finished. Good day, then!)