Human life found at Spartacus Books

Finally, something resembling a human experience at Spartacus Books. Let me start off by pointing out two things. First, I am a fan of Spartacus Books. Keep that in mind. Second, I am aware that book stores are usually relatively quite places and that the mood is usually tranquil. This notwithstanding, the vibe I usually experience at Spartacus is more comatose that tranquil. Until last Sunday…

Spartacus Books is a non for profit volunteer book store that recently relocated from the heart of Vancouver's Downtown East Side to just on the edge of the Downtown East Side. The store carries unique and provocative selection of books and zines on a variety of topics such as class warfare, feminism, ecological issues, anti-racism, anti-corporatism, anarchism, social thought and conflict. I almost always find something great there. To date, however, the vibe has left much to be desired. Now I admit, at first glace I may not look like the most approachable person on Earth. I prefer black (it’s slimming) or surplus clothing (camo is sliming to the point of invisibility in the right environment). I have what some have described as beady, intense eyes. While the windows to my soul may be tinted, I assure you that I am a very pleasant person. Nevertheless, I have been told many times that I have an angry look. Reminds me of one of Bill’s (Hicks for those of you joining The Ride late…) bits:
“Don’t you hate those people who say the expression ‘Do you know it takes more energy to smile that it does to frown?’ I point out to them that ‘You it takes more energy to say that then it does to leave me alone?’

But I digress…

Where was I? Oh yes, Spartacus. As I was saying I entered expecting the typical Spartacus interaction that usually involves a completely disinterested man or woman sitting at the counter or one of the web terminals. I enter and invariably say “hey”. Usually they are too involved in what they are doing to respond verbally but they will, on occasion, look up and make eye contact.

I proceed to look around and sometimes make the mistake of asking the person about something I am looking for. They usually say “I don’t know”, “I’m not sure” and sometime even muster a “Hmmm, I don’t know sorry”. One time I was told “You’ll have to look around.” What the fuck do you think I’m doing? An interpretive dance called ‘Beady eyed dude in black seems to be looking for something’. Thank you Spartacus volunteer for furthering the narrative of my life. Perhaps if I take the time to ask, my looking around pantomime is not achieving the results I need. Now remember, despite appearances, I am not an angry person. It reminds me of time I asked about some t-shirts they were selling at their old place. Picture a rack of approximately six t-shirts. Picture me walking in, doing a half hour of interpretive dance that concludes with me sashaying over to the aforementioned shirt rack. They are all small. I confirm this by looking at the tags. I medium, 5 small. I then have the following conversation with the gentle soul behind the counter:

Me: “Cool shirts”
Gentle Soul: silence combined with a look of apprehension
Me: “Looks like you have only smaller sizes”
Gentle Soul: “mmm”
Me: “Do you have any bigger sizes?”
Gentle Soul: looks at t-shirt rack with is approximately three feet away, pauses and says “I don’t see any.”
And yet I keep going back.
It’s not that the people are unfriendly or even aloof. They just don’t seem to be engaged at all. As a quite side note to my larger than medium readers, I did purchased a sweet Arm-me t-shirt a long time ago at their old location.

Which brings me to my point, finally…

Last Sunday, I stopped by Spartacus on my way to the Poverty Olympics (stay tuned). I entered, began my interpretive dance recital and asked the pleasant sounding chap who was setting up a new printer if he had anything on Mkultra. He stopped, though about it and politely said “Hmmm, you know I don’t think that we do.” Was he lying? Perhaps. Reading for the Spartacus script entitled “Ask me and I bet I don’t know nor will I attempt to help you”. It didn’t sound like it. I even heard him speak to a fellow volunteer regarding a book he would like to buy. Could he be…human? I eventually selected Julie Hecht’s Andy Kaufman: Was This Man a Genius? and walked up to the counter. Determined to test my theory, I asked the gentlemen if he had anything on Bill Hicks. He stated that they did but he did not think he had it now. I asked if it was something written by Kevin Booth and he said he was not sure. Yep, we were on the precipice of a full-blown conversation. I asked him about his netbook and then we got on to the topic of Burning Man (An Anarchist event? I do not claim to be a hardcore Anarchist or versed in all tenant of Anarchism but I just don’t see it. Not at $300 per ticket. Dionysian? Sure. Hedonistic? Sure. Anarchist? Not really.) Not wanting to spoil the moment I happily paid his friendly female co-volunteer for my purchase and departed.

Thank you friendly, engaged Spartacus volunteers for restoring my faith in humanity.