It's September 2nd.
Sore feet and aching backs dragging themselves into the store. College kids (oh i'm so close, so close, if only this were tomorrow i could be walking through this door alone.) with parents at their shoulder (oh we're so close, i can't believe it, should i be feeling better than this? worse? what has all this been for?) trailed by bored little brothers and sisters (they said we're getting ice cream next. if we spend more than two minutes in here, i'm going to scream.) dragged into town to help get the oscillating fan out of the rental and into the dorm. Eager, resigned, dogged.
Welcome to Boston, everyone.
When the freshness of your corporate-owned campus bookstore and its in-house satellites of Starbooks cafe and SuperSnips salon begins to get a bit stale, remember that we are here, mid-semester or winter-break, a T ride away. And know that most of us were out there doing the apartment shuffle just like you. Because that is the price you pay for staying past graduation. You dance the double-parkin' dosey doe with the returning students until the day when you intentionally break your lease and take a two-thousand dollar loss just to jump to the rare and glorious lease that starts on the first of February.
Now that I'm off the September lease leash, I can love this time of year without reservation. It's my twelfth here at Booksmith, which means that it's been twelve years since my Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Scene Design for Theatre meant anything to anyone but me. Doesn't matter. I just really like all the new September faces. I hope you all become regulars, and I hope you remember that we are the premier supplier of fine art supplies outside of Central Square. Tell your friends.