A shrine

Karen and I had a fabulous day in North Beach yesterday, walking and talking and soaking up the sunshine. We took in the Coit Tower, and Stella's pastry shop and a couple of cafes (there was a lot of talking to do) and we ended up at the City Lights Bookstore.

Why are they always so snooty in there? There is always someone behind the counter dressed in black who is young and male and sporting some outre constellation of facial hair and they always look at me with an expression that says "You're old and grey and female, what can you possibly want in here? Why aren't you at home, knitting? We only welcome OLD people if they are male. And even then they have to be of vast intelligence and have impeccable literary and political connections. Only old people like that are allowed past our portal."

When Karen asked if they had a copy of How to retire, happy wild and free the guy said "Oh, we don't carry books like that," as if we were in a Christian Bookshop and asking for porn.

I really think they should lighten up in there. If they can carry onesies emblazoned with the word HOWL, they have no right to be so high and mighty about their stock. Or about anything else. And besides, Karen has exquisite credentials. She is a bona fide aging hippie who lived in Haight when it was all happening, and you can bet she's read more books than Mr Snootismo has had hot dinners.