Friday, August 29, 2003

Driving to New Jersey means, for me most of the time, passing through the horrible olfactory wasteland of Southwest Philadelphia. It is, for a little while, pretty much the world's worst driving-through smell, topped only in my experience by the Jersey Turnpike in the mid-teens. It doesn't help my mood that this is the first noticeable sensory experience of the day.

I arrived a little late at the Clarion (the Shorecon venue this year), all set for 11 hours of boredom and meager sales. I brought books.

And what the hell: We kicked ass.

We not only made back our table fee the first day (always a joyous event for the convention dealer), we did almost as much today as we did at the entire same show two years ago, our first. I was so excited I drove back to the store to tell Bob (in the process avoiding a return trip through smelly SW Philly), and it turned out he had had a great Friday at the store.

So, for once, content.

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