The Borders was the closest relation, of course, but this Barnes & Noble felt cleaner, better organized, more inviting. Their CDs were more expensive than anywhere else, but they somehow got more imports and rare stuff than anyone else. I’d only been in mall stores like Walden’s, or used bookstores, or the Borders in Tacoma, but that was really only for music. Walking in to ask for an application was more than a little overwhelming. My best friend, and one of many roommates (there were, like, nine of us college!), knew a guy who worked at the Barnes & Noble down the hill from us, in University Village, and they were hiring. My sophomore year in college, after moving out of the dorm and into a house with friends, I found myself needing money for rent, for food. It was sadder than seemed reasonable, maybe sadder than I would have expected, certainly. ![]() I read the news via the nearly emotionless ticker of Facebook, and it surprised me that it affected me at all. It wasn’t even something cool and indie, with a storied history or a local celebrity of a quirky owner, but a Barnes & Noble. I hadn’t thought of the store in probably a few years, hadn’t set foot inside in considerably longer. The bookstore I worked at in college recently closed.
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