Waiting for Sedaris.

So there are at least, like, 1000 people here. 

I'm in a Barnes and Noble flanked between a long shelf of books on graphic design and another stacked to the sideburns with Chuck Klosterman paperbacks.

In fact it's six o'clock in the evening on a weeknight and the rush-hour subway I just got off of looked just like this room.

Except with fewer books.

The reading starts at seven thirty.

People seem to be simultaneously giddy and irritated and all I know is that if I get checked in the rib-cage one more time by another fake Chanel purse I just know I will absolutely lose it.

David Sedaris is at the start of his "Engulfed in Flames" book tour and tonight he has picked this room.   The room with 1000 people in it.  That says a lot about his fan base.  That does not say a lot about how B&N follows city ordinances on fire codes.  Dude.

When one is in crowds such as this one, there are some basic city rules to be adhered to.  Everyone is jammed so densely together you can practically taste their tall skinny vanilla latte.  You can hear what everyone is saying around you, but you have to pretend that you don't.   Eavesdropping isn't what's rude.  It's allowing others to realize that you have been eavesdropping--that's a damn social faux pas right there.    Another girl near me swears that she is not looking for a boyfriend, only a "boy toy."  Because it's a good "dinner deal to do". 

Whatever that means.

A feller next to me is telling his friend about his blog.  He is abstaining from sexual activity for 100 days and will be writing about his experiences.  He wants to find some way of working tonight's book signing into his blog.  Maybe he'll write about the guy next to him who LOOKS like he's re-reading Klosterman's "Killing Yourself to Live" when in fact, he's really listening in to this manifesto of abstinence.  Which has made it into this blog, making everything all self-referential and all. 

So ANYWAY the girl next to me is trying very hard to sneak pretzels out of her purse to snack on.  She better keep it on the down low in case anyone sees her.  This irks me somewhat because (a) I don't think Barnes & Noble has any posted policies about eating anything in its stores, much less something as non-cafe-chic as Rold Gold pretzels  (b) Why the stealth?  We're so close I can feel you eating pretzels.

I try not to think of such things. 

So I think of other things. 

Like why bookstores have to hire security guards that are more visually suited to wrestle leather-clad titans out of back alley biker bars.   What's the security threat in typical bookstore clientele?  If you catch someone sneaking a 3000 page tome of The History of Art down their trousers, I would imagine anyone wearing a Barnes  & Noble lanyard could stroll up and say, "Excuse me. I couldn't help notice that you're trying to shoplift The History of Art.  Please put it back before I call the police."
Stealing is shifty in general, much less when it's applied to books.  Hanging the possibility of being drawn and quartered by a retired state university linebacker seems a little, well, over the top.

David Sedaris finishes his reading.  He is starting to sign books.  Bookstore employees are wrangling the signing line folks into some semblance of order.  "Be sure your book is turned to this page." one of them warns. ("Or else! See this linebacker in the ill-tailored blazer? He's going to absolutely wreck you if you disobey.")    

People are starting to take hopeless photos from two hundred feet away of the author.  Digital cameras on maximum zoom will disappoint the hopeful star-catchers who will inevitably end up with what will look like a perspective-altered fingertip-sized David Sedaris rocking an Athena-inspired climb out of someone's head.

It's ten o'clock on a schoolnight.  David Sedaris was praised earlier by the B&N staff that hewas one of the few authors that would stay until the absolute end sothat every one of his readers that wanted a signature would get one.  That's way rad.  

The signing line leads into a seating area which is filled with people waiting to get in another line.  There are roughly 7 people per row, 13 rows per block of chairs, and roughly two and a half blocks total.   I guesstimate that's around 200 people, plus or minus.   The average book signee is spending roughly 1 minute meeting David Sedaris and getting on average 2 copies of the book signed.   Let's say for the sake of keepin' it real that about 10% of the seats in this commuter-sized population of readers are empty.  That's 180 people.  That's 180 minutes.

That's, like, 3 hours.

I'm going home, man.

But I can't move.

I hope there's not a fire.