Even after we are gone.

Mondays bring in the hoarders and dealers, Thursdays and Fridays turn up the deal sharks, Wednesdays are populated by hardcore regulars or first time shoppers, but Tuesdays are Senior days, and I find they make for the most interesting crowd.

Today I learned that in the used book market, 75% of the value of a first edition fiction book derives from the condition of its dust cover, while that same dust cover counts for only 25% of the value of first edition non fiction books. I was handed candy by one lady and an unopened stick of Avon lip balm (circa 1988, thanks ma'am, I'll use this if I want my lips to taste like an Avon dust fart) by another. Somebody's grandfather told me how to make rosettes, somebody else's grandmother bought some unusually racy undergarments I'd rather not think about, and one aged couple asked me where to find purple hair dye.

So long as you don't mind being up to your elbows in a heap of cute but impractical baby clothes and slightly frumpy but sensible Koret pants brought to you by genial but slow-moving folk, Tuesdays can be almost pleasant.