Buying Books by the Boatload

Say that five times fast.

Yesterday I ran out to pick up some books. A bunch of books. From two lines, all the new titles from each of the two lines. It's research, which any writer will understand. I'm figuring out what makes each of these titles appropriate for these lines. Then, I'm going to make sure what I'm submitting falls into the publishers' criteria for publishing. Just research. To make a long story short, I had a pile of books when I got to the cashier who was a young man. His brows lifted. He looked at me, then the books, then back at me. He smiled, and began to scan.

"Like to read, huh?"

"I do."

"Huh. Never got into that, really. Is this what you read? Romance stuff?"

"Uh huh." I reached for my wallet, swallowing a snort of laughter. "It is."

The guy began to bag the books. "Huh. Wonder who writes this stuff, anyway?" He glanced at the register, which had finally stopped beeping. "That'll be $**."

I handed him the cash, smiling. "I do."

You know, the kid was speechless when he handed me my change. I know it was mean, but I smiled, hefted my bag and walked away, wondering how to adequately describe the wonderful, glowing shade of red he'd turned.

Fire engine? Candly apple? Tongue swallowing crimson? Santa's bloomers scarlet?