?namselas esrever...reverse salesman?

I had another odd encounter with a stranger today. It was absolutely beautiful and just damned hot out, so I decided to read my Australian porn outside on the sidewalk while waiting for my friend Scott to arrive (I don't have a yard, it's house-sidewalk-road.) An older gentleman carrying two Sobey's reusable bags strolled around the corner and immediately started talking upon spying me sitting there. He just started a spiel about how he was going door to door, begging paperback books (why paperback and not hardcover, I have no idea), so he could sell them for profit at used bookstores. There was some stuff in there about his mother getting sick, and him being stuck here (but she hung on for four years, God rest her soul) and on financial assistance. Apparently he has 175 books at home that the bookstores won't buy. He pulled two of these books out of one of his bags and proceeded to ask me, as a young person, why they wouldn't buy them, as they were lovely books in his opinion (young people are known for being experts in the subject of literary lovliness.) We proceeded to have a mostly one-way conversation (guess which way) about his renting a table at the Sunday night flea market held at the Avalon Mall. He wandered off when I managed to inject a comment about my not having any books to give him, as I send anything I'm finished reading out home to my dad. Pleasant sort. At least it was a creative way of begging, showed a bit of incentive beyond scribbling on an old piece of cardboard and sitting on the sidewalk like a lump.

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