Just Books, the last book store near the University of South Florida that is not affiliated with the campus, Borders, or Barnes and Noble is going out of business. The owner is retiring. Since I moved here several years ago, Just Books has watched four competing book stores (in a five mile radius) go belly up. The owner, a chubby old man with a pony tail and an old hippie disposition, despite the fact that he has seen me go through many different hair styles and despite sometimes not seeing me for months, always recognizes my face and always recommends quality books. He also helped me catch a stray puppy once (though in truth, he was really just there for moral support. I mean, chubby old people ain’t quick). Anyway, I’m pissed. I’m tired of cool places going out of business.
Manhattan Bagel used to be in the local area as well. It was the only place in Tampa where you could get a Taylor Ham sandwich. Many of you may not know what Taylor Ham is or how good it is. Trust me, it’s great. Some northeasterners reading this may be thinking something along the lines of, “Wait a minute. How does a kid from St. Louis who lives in Tampa know about Taylor Ham?” To this I respond, “Hey, I get around.” Manhattan Bagel was an awesome place—they were privately owned providers of precious goodness—but it had to go. And, because of it, I went to Arby’s. The lesson, naturally, this world sucks.
Las Palios Brother’s Fried Chicken used to be in South Tampa, right off South MacDill Ave. Not only was it some of the best fried chicken I ever had in my life, not only was the place always clogged with all walks of life (from ghetto gang bangers to suit-clad, senior-citizen senators), but the walls were covered with pictures that essentially outlined the history of Tampa, from the day the railroads first got here to the days of Hurricane Donna to the inaugural Tampa Bay Devil Rays game. Black and white photos yielded to color photos, the quality of which got better and better as the years progressed, until eventually becoming digital and then… the entire place was destroyed and turned into a bank. And yours truly turned to Kentucky Fried Chicken. No offense to the colonel, but life’s a bitch.
And so I say goodbye to another privately owned piece of cool capitalism. No longer will I be able to purchase used books from a chubby dude in a run down building. No longer will I be able to browse an eclectic mix of quality out-of-print works from all over the world. Instead, I’ll be at Barnes and Noble, sipping a latte and thumbing through the latest Oprah sponsored piece of self-serving tripe.
But, as the man says, boo fucking hoo and get over it.
So to Just Books, I say goodbye. If you need me, I’ll be on Amazon.com, wishing I could thumb through my choices before I purchase them, wishing I had bothered to learn that chubby dude’s name and wondering why any other book store would want to sell more than just books.