Love in Savannah
September 15th, 2009
The first thing I saw when I walked in the door was a word game called Bananagrams, whimsically displayed on a hanging rack in banana-shaped cloth bags. I was intrigued. As soon I expressed interest, the cheerful lady behind the counter ushered me over to a nearby table where they had the game set up and invited me to have a go. So I pulled up a chair to scope it out (and, about 30 minutes later, bought it for myself).
While sitting contentedly arranging anagrams, I overheard the two saleswomen and a customer debating a matter of biblical content. And in a wonderful moment that belonged in a movie, my husband strolled over and said: “I’m a minister. Is there anything I can do to help?” Oh, my. They were thrilled. The timing was just perfect for, at that very moment, they were in desperate need of someone to define which books were contained in the Apocrypha.
Once we managed to tear ourselves away from biblical discussions (not until after one salesclerk and I swapped “favorite translation” stories for a few minutes, the result of which was her scurrying to her computer to order one I suggested she could not live without), we wandered deeper and deeper into the wonderland. Room after room of books, neatly arranged by topic. They don’t stock many copies of each title but they have a gigantic selection and will order anything you can think of.
Kids books. Architecture. New fiction. Old fiction. Religion and psychology. Savannah books. Antique maps. You name it, it was there. Josh bought a biography of Flannery O’Connor. I got a great “learn your colors” kids book for Miss Mouse (in addition to the Bananagrams).
We were finally forced to drag ourselves away or risk missing the last trolley home. But we may very well go back again tomorrow.