Look out, Ginny!

I think that the spring weather is starting to get to me, because just yesterday I took a look at my bookshelf and decided that there were some books that I no longer needed. I cleared off a stack of books about 2 feet tall, and then called my local book dealer to stop by and check out my stack.

I get several offers each year from used books dealers who are willing to grease my palm with cash in order to pick up the textbooks that I get gifted. In the past, this money has financed my malt ball addiction. But when the bookstore stopped stocking malt balls, I began to question the practice of selling the textbooks. It always feels a little slimy when I sell the books to the dealers. They aren't really welcome on campus, and when they do business, they always come into your office and make sure the door is shut behind them. After they scan your books with their handheld scanner/computer, they pull out a huge wad of cash and peel off the right amount of bills. I guess it's what you should expect when you deal with an illegitimate market.

Anyway, of my 2-foot stack, the dealer only wanted two books. Figures. But I didn't complain when he handed me $32 and left me with nearly the same sized stack. That's when I decided that I would put the books outside my office with a sign that said, "Free books!" Just because I couldn't get cash for them didn't mean that I wanted them back on my shelves.

When Mark stopped by later and saw the stack of books, he was highly alarmed. Looking through the titles, he accused me of trying to pull a Lucius Malfoy, sticking some poor soul with the equivalent of a Tom Riddle Diary. He said that any day now we would find dead chickens and messages written in blood on campus. I've never been accused of dealing in the dark arts before, and I'm pretty sure that it will enhance my image as a mathematics teacher. I may even start calling my classes "succumb to the dark arts."