Borders is considerably bigger than Waterstones. It’s in a retail park, and we chose it because they are open in the evenings. Yesterday, Mr D and I planned to go there and continue the book buying extravaganza that is my therapy. Even before I left the house, I was planning. Waterstones was more of a spur of the moment thing, so I didn’t have time to think about it too much. This time, my mind went through everything – from visualising the layout of the store to deciding what type of book to get.
Downstairs in Borders, as well as a gazillion books, they have an entire corner of the store devoted to magazines, and a Paperchase franchise. Upstairs, there’s a large Starbucks and a generous section devoted to DVD’s. Upstairs is also where the craft books are, and as I’d already decided that I needed a book on crochet (now that I’ve finally gotten the hang of it) that’s where we headed. Of course, Mr D has no interest in crochet or knitting, so he wandered around the DVD section and left me to it.
Crafting books seem to fall into two distinct categories. Ones for absolute beginners that walk you through the basics in baby steps then give you incredibly simple projects to do, or ones which have complex advanced patterns, of which only a few are really nice. The thing about buying crafting books is that you need to bear in mind that the fashionable stuff soon becomes dated. You just need to look at some of the pattern books from the 1980’s to see my point…
“Crafters Corner” has a row of padded stools for people to sit on, which is visible as you go up the stairs. It’s nice to be able to sit there with a few books and leaf through them, but I noticed that someone was already sitting there, so mentally decided not to join her. I ended up sitting on the floor in the other corner, which is something I do when there are no seats. Presently, the lady from the stools leaned over to put a book back. I muttered “sorry” as you do when you may be in someone’s way, and leaned back for her to have more room. She thanked me, and chose a couple of books – crochet books. I smiled. Somehow there was this unspoken craft-person thing between us, and without thinking I said, “This one’s really good” and held up the book I was looking through, Essential Crochet by Erika Knight. Suddenly, that unspoken craft-person link became spoken, and we were talking about books and how hard it is to find good quality yarn. I even told her about a couple of places that I source my yarn locally, which she seemed pleased with.
Maybe it was because I was sitting on the floor, maybe it was because it was a subject I love, I don’t know. Maybe it was because I was there to push myself, and this was part of it. My mindset was different, I wasn’t thinking automatically “fuck off and leave me alone”, I was thinking “I have to do this. I need to communicate. I will communicate.
Buying the book was a little different. I’d gone to find Mr D, and contemplated out loud going downstairs to pay by myself. J’s comment about going “just a bit outside my comfort zone” came into my head, and I decided this was the way to do it. I hovered, putting it off, then thought, “sod it, I need to do this now” told Mr D I was off, and headed downstairs.
Towards the bottom of the stairs, I looked over towards the till area. There was someone waiting, but it wasn’t busy. I headed over, pausing to take a different route when my chosen one was blocked (I didn’t want to be in a confrontation situation by having to say “excuse me”, which doesn’t make much sense considering the conversation I’d had upstairs). I got to the till and waited. It was only when the girl beckoned me over and I smiled and said “hello” that I realised I’d been clenching my jaw.
The actual process of paying was very similar to Waterstones. An almost ‘self service’ system of putting my own debit card in the reader, and following the instructions on the lcd display – the only communication from the sales assistant was a “hello” and “would you like your receipt in the bag?”. I’m thinking I need to pay cash next time, just to make them do some work for my therapy…
I looked round, and saw that Mr D had come downstairs, but had hovered on the bottom step so I could see him. It made me feel better, somehow I felt that going upstairs to find him again was a bit more than I wanted to do. At this point, I felt incredibly tired, but also felt like I’d achieved something.
Last night, I went to bed early, and took my crochet book up with me. Although I’d looked through it in the shop, somehow it was like I was looking at it for the first time. I was seeing the pages again, but this time I was taking it in…