On live-ing, translated…
As I’d started picking up used books, it felt like blind dates, I’d always felt a bit shy, about having to ask the other person’s life experiences…
Gone Out in the Rains, to Collect the Used Volume of Books
Every time I’d gone on these collection calls, it felt like a brand new adventure, because you can’t decipher if the books are kept in good shapes or not by the callers’ houses’ locations. When you’d stepped into a mansion, that didn’t necessarily mean that you’d hit the jackpot; and from time to time, when you’d gone out to the “desolate places”, you’d thumbed across some hard-to-come-by volumes, just sitting there on the shelves. Unless, the sellers e-mailed the photos of the books they wanted to get rid of, otherwise, you’d never know, what sort of a surprises are in store for you on the trips. And naturally, you’d get disappointed from time to time as well.
As I’d begun these collection calls, it felt more like blind dates, it was hard for me, to ask about the other individuals’ details, for instance, what are the books? How many in volume? I can only ask for the general things, study guides, romance, and comics are excluded, if there were over thirty in volume, in the urban regions of the city of Taipei, then, put the keys in the ignition, then, I’m off.
After I’d become more experienced, I no longer felt as shy. How many volumes, not sure? I’ll just ask about how many boxes? Reason being, if I can get a rough number of boxes, then, at least I can tell, if they’ll all fit into my car. And, I must also have enough cash too, straightforward questions, straight up answers.
But, during my trial period, the buyers and I, we couldn’t communicate well. I’d recalled, how once, I got a call, to get out to Shijr, the other person asked me to come in the evenings after work.
“How many books?”
“A ton, they’re all piled up in the staircases.”
“What kinds of books?”
“There are multiple volumes on interior design, decorating. And there were, a lot more that I couldn’t get a clear look on, there’s just so many of them, it’s too dark for me to see.”
I felt rushed, by the “volumes and volumes,” and “please come soon”, and so, I drove out in the rain.
When the Secondhand Book Buyers Became Recyclers
As I drove into the foreign land called Shijr, inside the twists and turns of the alleys, the owner of the book stood there, at the top of the stairs, pointed to the books, “Those are it!”, I’d looked, they were outdated interior designing magazines, some very old gardening books, and as I’d picked them up, it was, even worse, because they’d all suffered from water damage.
“There’s nothing I can do about it, it’d rained these past couple of days, so that was why I’d called you to come quickly.”
I’d stated with a difficult look on my face, “But, we can’t sell these books that are water-damaged.”
Seeing how this pile of books, none of which we would be able to sell, but, I’d driven from so far, I’d still worked, very hard, to salvage what I could. But, those too old and outdated interior designing magazines were categorized in the “unable to take” bundles, and the owner wasn’t at all pleased. Finally, I’d found a dried enough book on gardening, and a cookbook too, I’d stated, “This one will do”. But, as I’d picked up that cookbook, the owner took one look, and said, “That one, I want to keep.” I was almost stunned, and that was when I realized that that wasn’t his book at all. The man explained, “I’d just moved in here, and the original owner of this place cleaned out the books, and threw them on the stairs. I thought, that it would be a shame, to just throw them all out, so I’d called you guys over to see if you can recycle them.” I guess, he’d mistaken me as a recycler, not a used book salesperson.
And, I’d driven all this way, I’d not want to return empty-handed, I saw another clean diary, with just two lines written. So, I’d handed the person some money, took that book on gardening, and that diary off, for the sake, of not having such an awkward collecting experience (but the process of the person handing me the money was still quite awkward).
But, the notebook I’d picked up, made me the butt of my coworkers’ jokes. “Bao-Er, you’re so borderline. At this day and age, you’re still writing with pen in your dairies, and you’d even managed to bring back a diary that’s been written in?”
I’d replied, with this mild agitation, “Tear those first few pages off, then, it’d become a sellable notebook, isn’t it?”
Later on, as I’d thought back, perhaps, it’s because of how nickeling and diming I really am, that was why I’d believed, that a diary with the first few pages torn out is okay too. Thinking back my behaviors were really too borderline. But, I believe that I’d felt taken, because I’d gone all the way to the place and not gotten anything, feared that it might displease someone else, so, no matter what, I must take something back, instead, I’d made myself unhappy.
There’s failures in everything you do, especially at the very beginning, when you don’t have a clue of what you were doing, I guess, in order to learn, you must be willing to pay a small fee first.
And so, this, is one woman’s experience in collecting the used books for sale, and, some of those used books are just tossed out so carelessly aside, and it’s really very sad, because some of the books are still extremely valuable, maybe not to you, but to someone else, after all, one man’s junk could be another man’s treasures, you know???
On live-ing, translated…
As I’d started picking up used books, it felt like blind dates, I’d always felt a bit shy, about having to ask the other person’s life experiences…
Gone Out in the Rains, to Collect the Used Volume of Books
Every time I’d gone on these collection calls, it felt like a brand new adventure, because you can’t decipher if the books are kept in good shapes or not by the callers’ houses’ locations. When you’d stepped into a mansion, that didn’t necessarily mean that you’d hit the jackpot; and from time to time, when you’d gone out to the “desolate places”, you’d thumbed across some hard-to-come-by volumes, just sitting there on the shelves. Unless, the sellers e-mailed the photos of the books they wanted to get rid of, otherwise, you’d never know, what sort of a surprises are in store for you on the trips. And naturally, you’d get disappointed from time to time as well.
As I’d begun these collection calls, it felt more like blind dates, it was hard for me, to ask about the other individuals’ details, for instance, what are the books? How many in volume? I can only ask for the general things, study guides, romance, and comics are excluded, if there were over thirty in volume, in the urban regions of the city of Taipei, then, put the keys in the ignition, then, I’m off.
After I’d become more experienced, I no longer felt as shy. How many volumes, not sure? I’ll just ask about how many boxes? Reason being, if I can get a rough number of boxes, then, at least I can tell, if they’ll all fit into my car. And, I must also have enough cash too, straightforward questions, straight up answers.
But, during my trial period, the buyers and I, we couldn’t communicate well. I’d recalled, how once, I got a call, to get out to Shijr, the other person asked me to come in the evenings after work.
“How many books?”
“A ton, they’re all piled up in the staircases.”
“What kinds of books?”
“There are multiple volumes on interior design, decorating. And there were, a lot more that I couldn’t get a clear look on, there’s just so many of them, it’s too dark for me to see.”
I felt rushed, by the “volumes and volumes,” and “please come soon”, and so, I drove out in the rain.
When the Secondhand Book Buyers Became Recyclers
As I drove into the foreign land called Shijr, inside the twists and turns of the alleys, the owner of the book stood there, at the top of the stairs, pointed to the books, “Those are it!”, I’d looked, they were outdated interior designing magazines, some very old gardening books, and as I’d picked them up, it was, even worse, because they’d all suffered from water damage.
“There’s nothing I can do about it, it’d rained these past couple of days, so that was why I’d called you to come quickly.”
I’d stated with a difficult look on my face, “But, we can’t sell these books that are water-damaged.”
Seeing how this pile of books, none of which we would be able to sell, but, I’d driven from so far, I’d still worked, very hard, to salvage what I could. But, those too old and outdated interior designing magazines were categorized in the “unable to take” bundles, and the owner wasn’t at all pleased. Finally, I’d found a dried enough book on gardening, and a cookbook too, I’d stated, “This one will do”. But, as I’d picked up that cookbook, the owner took one look, and said, “That one, I want to keep.” I was almost stunned, and that was when I realized that that wasn’t his book at all. The man explained, “I’d just moved in here, and the original owner of this place cleaned out the books, and threw them on the stairs. I thought, that it would be a shame, to just throw them all out, so I’d called you guys over to see if you can recycle them.” I guess, he’d mistaken me as a recycler, not a used book salesperson.
And, I’d driven all this way, I’d not want to return empty-handed, I saw another clean diary, with just two lines written. So, I’d handed the person some money, took that book on gardening, and that diary off, for the sake, of not having such an awkward collecting experience (but the process of the person handing me the money was still quite awkward).
But, the notebook I’d picked up, made me the butt of my coworkers’ jokes. “Bao-Er, you’re so borderline. At this day and age, you’re still writing with pen in your dairies, and you’d even managed to bring back a diary that’s been written in?”
I’d replied, with this mild agitation, “Tear those first few pages off, then, it’d become a sellable notebook, isn’t it?”
Later on, as I’d thought back, perhaps, it’s because of how nickeling and diming I really am, that was why I’d believed, that a diary with the first few pages torn out is okay too. Thinking back my behaviors were really too borderline. But, I believe that I’d felt taken, because I’d gone all the way to the place and not gotten anything, feared that it might displease someone else, so, no matter what, I must take something back, instead, I’d made myself unhappy.
There’s failures in everything you do, especially at the very beginning, when you don’t have a clue of what you were doing, I guess, in order to learn, you must be willing to pay a small fee first.
And so, this, is one woman’s experience in collecting the used books for sale, and, some of those used books are just tossed out so carelessly aside, and it’s really very sad, because some of the books are still extremely valuable, maybe not to you, but to someone else, after all, one man’s junk could be another man’s treasures, you know???
Life, the Obstacle Course 