Sold zero books.
A former journalist stopped by my café table, where my books were on display, to say “Cheesesteak” had “inspired” her to write her own memoir and she already had 200 pages.
I thought, That would be five memoirs out of this café alone, plus a one-woman show about her abortion.
A composer of jazz operas called “Cheesesteak” “fabulous.
I told him “Stage and screen rights remain available.”
A man in a plaid flannel shirt said of my “Buy Bob’s Books” sign, “The Checkered Demon. The Checkered Demon. I haven’t seen the Checkered Demon in a long time.”
I complimented him on his eye.
A Doctor of Oriental Medicine told me he had self-published two books about “brain health.”
I told him I would swap him one of mine for one of his.
A 50-something, part-time substitute school teacher told me about bicycling from D.C. to Philadelphia (site of “Cheesesteak”) in the 1970s and staying at a youth hostel in Fairmount Park.
I recommended he visit the Barnes Museum the next time.
It all adds up.