Shopping on behalf of other people in Barnes & Noble led me where it usually does--finding a book that I actually want for myself, such as the new Lemony Snicket, and collapsing into one of the store’s comfy chairs to flip through it and laugh as infant Sunny Baudelaire meets an untrustworthy judge and exclaims “Scalia!” But several minutes later, as I was wrapped up in the story, a voice said: “Excuse me--excuse me a second please?”

I looked up.  A young woman was looking at me while putting down her two bags, which contained a laptop and several textbooks including one on advanced calculus.

She said, “Could you watch these for me for a minute?”

I said, “Sure.”

She came back a few minutes later and said “Thanks.”

What I Said:

“No problem.”

What I Wish I Had Said:

“Why do people think it’s safer to ask someone to watch their stuff than it is to simply leave the things and hope for the best?  Just because you exchanged a few words with me doesn’t mean I’m not a thief.  I could steal your bags and like it.”

“Is it because I look like a nice guy? Let me tell you, I went on a shoplifting binge when I was four years old.  I only stopped when my mother caught me smuggling a pack of lifesavers out of the supermarket.  They were rolled up in my shirt like little multicolored breasts.  I realized at this point I was poorly suited for a life of crime.  But you don’t know any of that.”

“You know what happens when you go to Rome?  People ask you to hold their baby and then they pick your pocket.  They actually throw the baby at you, like a wind-up fastball.  As it’s evident that you can’t even navigate the ethical perils of a California-based Barnes & Noble, I sure hope you’re not planning a trip to Rome.”

“Advanced Calculus?  Why are you studying that?  You’ll never earn a living that way.  Let me tell you, I was an English major, and people are lining up to give me buckets of mon--okay, wait, that advice is dumb. Back to the trusting people in bookstores thing.  Stop doing that.”