One of the pitfalls of not having much work and living with a woman who has her own business is that one is necessarily drafted into her operation.

Today that meant setting up with her at an open air market in Silver Spring, Maryland (one of Washington’s inner suburbs) while a storm system that had slain a dozen people in the states of the former Confederacy was swirling around. Fortunately, instead of forty-odd mile an hour gusts and intermittent tornadoes, we merely suffered some stiff breezes, a cold rain, and no customers. Also, a kind of hippie bluegrass featuring a female guitarist improbably wearing purple Josie and the Pussycats ears, lending an aura of Hanna-Barbera bubble gum pop to their bluegrass jam.

Inevitably, I made my way over to the Borders across the street. I had a 40% off coupon in my pocket (actually, it was on my phone, but the phone was in my pocket, so I’ll stand by the statement) that only excluded games, toys, and puzzles.

I was determined to buy a science fiction magazine as a gesture of support for the institutions that provide an outlet for writers. I settled on a copy of Asimov’s Science Fiction, based on a combination of nostalgia (Isaac Asimov was one of the first science fiction writers who I read extensively, following the lead of my mother, who rarely read science fiction but devoured Asimov and Ray Bradbury) and price (it was only $4.99).

After I placed the magazine in front of the cashier, I was told that my coupon also excluded magazines. Feeling obstinate, I pointed to the large print that clearly listed exclusions not including magazines. The cashier then pointed to the microscopically small print, which added magazines to that list.

Needless to say, I was pissed.

Had I known, I might still have bought Asimov’s. Even with 40% off, it was still cheaper than most any book I would want to buy. But I had walked in expecting to get 40% of my choice of periodical. And it seems to me that “magazines” is a pretty big thing to leave off. They mention “puzzles” in big print, but forget to add “magazines” or “periodicals?”

I have tried to stand by Borders. I loved having the one on Sunset and Vine, close enough to my old apartment that I could walk to it whenever I felt like browsing. I also mourn the possible loss of any such major outlet for traditional print books.

But this pissed me off. I’m about to give up on Borders and give them the metaphorical finger.

Nonetheless, mainly for lack of much else to do, I ambled over to their café for a small coffee.

Within a few moments, I found my faith in our future both reaffirmed and challenged.

While pouring skim milk into my coffee, I saw that the young, studious looking man next to me had just purchased a book by Nobel Prize winning Egyptian writer, Naguib Mahfouz.

It’s always nice to see a young person reading canonical works of literature. Maybe it was just a for a class, I don’t know. But I can only be happy to see a member of the younger generation choosing great books, rather than something of passing popularity and limited value (who knows – perhaps he would actually have looked down on me for my choice of purchase).

When I sat down at a longish communal table to peruse my magazine and drink my coffee, a middle aged, Southeast Asian (I guessed Indian) woman sat down catty corner from me with a thick paperback copy Dianetics and slimmer, oversized, periodical looking volume that also read Dianetics on the spine.

While I don’t wish to disrespect anyone’s religion (I did plenty of that when I was a young and angry atheist), I must admit that I consider Scientology to be more pop psychology than religion. Having grown up outside of Clearwater, Florida, I am also disturbed the many accusations of impropriety leveled at that church – especially the Lisa McPherson case.

Because I am trying to cut back on my book buying, I fear that Borders has taken itself out of contention to collect any more of my scarce, book buying dollars for the forseeable future. I’ll pray for you, but I won’t pay you.