I otter know better

OK, so on Sunday, on the way to Kimberley, I stopped off for a bit of lunch in Nelson, and to pay respects to Hipperson's Hardware, of David McFadden fame, and to pop into Otter Books. So I checked out the poetry in Otter, and the sale shelves, and then I bought a collection of short stories by James Salter.

When I paid, I gave the woman at the cash a copy of the little poetry leaflet I prepared for this trip (a poem called "Coup," which I wish I'd named "Coup Tinny). She looked at it and said, "We just sold a book of yours." I looked astonished, and she added, "Hey, Crumbling Balcony! Just 20 minutes ago." Then she checked her till and said it was "two transactions ago."

OK, that's a pretty weird coincidence. I mean, during the hour that I'm in Nelson this year, someone buys my book, and I don't even have any events happening in Nelson. The Otter woman said, "People know you here." Geez.

Of course, as I walked down the main street later, I watched for people with Otter Books bags, figuring I'd accost them and tell them to hurry and get their money back!

Over and out