After my 6 month Hiatus from work, I returned and reclaimed my rightful name as The Bookseller. I was admittedly nervous my first day back, considering that stress from school and work had caused my breakdown that forced me to leave work. My first customer stepped up to the the register and without missing a beat, I put on my pleasant smile and recited the greeting that had been apart of me for so many years, "Hi, how are you doing? Do you have a member card to save 10% today?" And with that one phrase, the 6 months I was gone literally disappeared.
I could still type the 13 digit ISBN number into the keypad with unusual speed that I was sure that I lost. I could still find everything anyone was looking for in the store without looking it up in the computer. I still remembered all the regulars names and phone numbers for their member cards. Why is it that I remember all this but always forget the model, make, and year of my car or where I left my keys last? Why is it that I remember the phone numbers of customers I only know by name and face and not the phone number of my own sister?
Why, you ask? Because I am the Bookseller, and books are all that matter. Here's to more of the same...
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