Friday, December 10, 2004

By the Way...

Prospective Strand applicants:

On the job application you are given, there is a ten question match-the-author-to-the-book mini-test on the back.

FYI, the answer to every question is Jean-Paul Sartre. I believe that this is the only author Nancy has actually ever heard of, and that she frequently drops his name around the office* in a vain attempt to garner credibility for herself. Mention his name liberally in your interview.

*[e.g., "No-no-no-NO, you IDIOT, I don't want those expense reports now, I want them nine fucking minutes ago! Hey look, there goes Jean-Paul Sartre."]


Anonymous Anonymous said...

My favorite (old) Strand employee story: Second floor workers so fucked on heroin that they would stand trying to shelve the same book all day. Ah the old days. Keep up the hatred of Nancy.

10:41 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

As a former employee of the RBR (please stop hating us; we don't get paid more, we just don't get rickets from lack of sunlight), I once watched Nancy playing flirty, giggly tag with prospective buyer of leather books. I immediately set myself on fire. Also, I defy you to keep a straight face when she bursts into the room and, without preface, announces "I need 9 feet of leather!"

11:12 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Well, I Hate Strand blogger, you got referenced on Now the entire NYC blogosphere knows of our exploits around 828 Broadway. A+ effort.

11:41 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I really wish I knew who the hell you are because I would like to buy you a drink and shake your hand! This blog was a brilliant idea, just brilliant! Keep up the good work.

11:59 pm  
Blogger Daniel said...

i hate the stand too! discovered your blog on gawker. Im from Texas and friends all told me to go visit the Strand - knowing my love of books - imagine my horror and disgust as i entered to find that the place was hot as hell, with stinky people and stinkier books all around... as much as i love a good book sale and browsing, the environment was so unbearable, i had to get the hell out of there after 10 minutes.. but alas i was stuck behind some slow moving fucks - i would rather by my books full price than ever go back there again!!

1:32 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

As a four-year inmate of that literary salt mine (early Nineties), I say: "The Old Days were worse!"

Keep the hate alive. There is life after the Strand; even though it is undoubtedly New York City's premiere cesspool of lost bohemian souls. (Tower Records and Pearl Paint being the runners-up)

6:43 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

hahha. you're so wack. haha. found your blog also through gawker. Interestingly, I went there for the first time a week ago--workers seemed...well-fed.. hahaha. well, they were cute anyway.

2:37 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

During my interview with Nancy in her hot/cozy little office, she definetely demonstrated the tell-tale signs of a severe qualude addiction: languid hand motioning, rocking of the head, paroxysm, vomiting into a small paper cup, incontinance, slurring of speech, inappropriate come-ons/groping, tongue kissing an antique cat manaquin, clinical depression, etc. By the end I was offered not only a place at Strand but 'the best fucking hand-job [I'd] ever fucking have you slurping little piece a cassghhg [sic]. Not bad. She also has a queer faint hot-doggish smell about her.

9:16 am  
Blogger beetlebreakfast said...

"During my interview with Nancy in her hot/cozy little office, she definetely demonstrated the tell-tale signs of a severe qualude addiction. . . ."

That's fucking funny.

6:46 am  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Free Counter