The other day, our family enjoyed a nice lunch at The Village Anchor. It’s a lovely little place where one can enjoy covered, outside dining. I had Rosemary Salted Fries that were delicious. But, let’s dispense with the formalities and get to story. . .

The dining area was not full which left some distance between the parties dining. From where I was sitting, I saw two women get up to leave their table. And that was when I saw what they were preparing to leave behind: a book.

There it was. On the table all by itself, it’s paper cover lifting as if to say, “I’m still here. Somebody. . .anybody!”

I was that Somebody.

“See something; say something.” Isn’t this what we tell our kids today. I was waiting too long as the ladies were just beginning to step outside the dining area to the walk leading away from the restaurant. So I did what any responsible citizen would do:

I called out to the waitresss who was bussing the table now. I kept thinking about how I might feel if I were to get down the road to realize that I had left my book behind. . .anywhere.

“Miss. . .oh, Miss. . .those ladies left that book on the table. You might still be able to catch them.”

The waitress turned to me and said, “That’s okay, sir. This is how we deliver the check here. We put them in these books.”

My wife began to chuckle at my guffaw and my cheeks began to warm a little in embarrassment.

Of course. This is how we deliver our checks around here. We tuck them into books that might have been read. They are a delivery vehicle. A courier of currency in their new role. They move from table to register and back. The only reason now for consultation is to see what is charged and to render payment.

But why these paperbacks? Why not small chapbooks of poetry that might invite a casual glance? Why not vintage picture books which might prompt a quick peek? Why not Little Golden Books which might lead one to go home and dig out these treasures. Books should remind us something, but they must remind us of something more than to leave a good tip.

I should have known better. Of course this was a “novel” way to deliver a check.

But. . .

As a reader and a lover of books it is not a foreign concept for me to carry a book into place one might not ordinarily. Just yesterday, a young intern in a dentist’s office looked at my hand and said, “You’re reading a book?” The snarky answer would have been, “No, I am carrying a book. This is how they get from place to place lacking autonomous mobility. They are much like stones this way.”

But, of course, I was reading a book. I stopped when I was called back into the care area. It was coming with me. Until it was mentioned, it was just a part of me. I am the courier. It goes where I go.

I’m a book person. I get concerned when I see them left behind.

And I become concerned when I see the book limited in what it has to offer. Reduced in function, a book becomes nothing more than something we carry from the table to the register.

Or might I suggest that reduced in function, a book could be nothing more than an element we carry from the desk to the registrar?

While I think about that book on the table and how I have little quirks regarding books that invite others to see me as a little odd. . .or obsessive, we might look back to that dining area:

1.  If they are both of quality, we would no sooner leave the last bite of a good steak than the last bit of a great story.

2.  The reading of any book should be more than an opportunity for a record or a receipt; there is something of record within a good book and we receive more than we would have leaving the book upon some table.

3.  We, the reader, get to choose within which “course” a good book could fit: is this book an appetizer for some longer work? Is this book soup of ideas floating in something familiar as its base? is this book the main course we have been waiting for? is the book the desert, something sweet and lasting on the pallette?

4.  Are we looking at the books we share in the room as a sort of transaction or opportunities for transformation. This would be a good time to think about how those books look when they are left on desks at the end of a unit or the end of a school year.

5.  What is the ONE title that if you saw it left on a table of a crowded restaurant that could cause you to disrupt the room to call out to its owner? What book would you liberate from its treatment as a courier of words in exchange for some project or comprehension level quiz?

So. . .I embarrassed myself on the behalf of a book. It is not the first time. And it won’t be the last. Here’s a suggestion for the restaurant. Independent Bookstores get a new listing for titles each month. I’ll bet Carmichael’s would share these with The Village Anchor. These are about the size of book. They are on cardstock paper. They could be folded over and used for the purpose of carrying receipts back and forth. They might just strike up a conversation about books and about reading. Someone might find a new title. What an excellent extension of service this might be. And it would spare someone potential embarrassment.

But, then, I am a book person not waitstaff.  Then again:

I’m waiting on books of all types.

I’m waiting on readers of all kinds.

I stand by to give tips.