In August, this East Coast girl went to the West Coast for the first time.  I'm certainly not opposed to travel, having been to London a few times and a couple quick stops from there to other parts of Europe as well.  But somehow it took until my 33rd year to make it to the West Coast of my own country.  I went from the Northeast to the Northwest, Seattle to be exact.  As the plane was starting its descent, I was welcomed with this sight of the Cascades.

 
When preparing for my trip, I borrowed some travel guides for Seattle from my local library.  The volumes in stock were the old standby series, Fodor's and Frommer's.  I'm relieved I brought both with me, as one had the wrong (old) address for a bookstore I wanted to check out.  Yes, I work at a bookstore and yet, on vacation, I wanted to visit one of the local independent bookstores.
This one in particular.  

The Elliott Bay Book Company could quite possibly be my dream store.  Well, maybe if they had a fireplace like the fondly remembered Market Bookshop from my youth.  When a store looks as amazing as this, how could it not quickly worm its way into this book lover's heart?!

The two above photos are from the store's flickr page.  This next one is a photo I snapped while browsing through the store for a few hours on my last day in Seattle.

If I remember correctly, this is part of the fiction section, roughly around the B's.  Each piece of paper flowing down from the shelves is either a staff recommendation or information you should probably know about an upcoming release or author appearance.  The vast majority are staff recommendations and I spent some of my browsing time checking out what the staff had written about books that I had also enjoyed.  I often feel compelled to do that in a bookstore, as if I'm investigating whether I'd find myself a book reading best friend in one of their employees.  I do the same when I check out music stores as well.  Just a weird little habit of mine, much like needing to visit bookstores despite working in one.

The last morning of my trip, I woke up with the belief that the opportunity to check out Elliott Bay Book Co. had been missed.  I reasoned with myself that this was ok; I could indeed survive for six entire days without surrounding myself with books.  That convincing wasn't really working.  I felt a little shaky.  Going cold turkey isn't for everyone.  I tried telling myself that I've done it before, living for almost an entire week without stepping foot inside a bookstore.  In fact, the last time that had occurred was probably during the last century.  I was definitely getting lightheaded at that realization.  The longest time I have taken off from work previous to this trip was a vacation to London about five years ago.  That trip definitely included some time in bookshops, as my two traveling companions were friends and co-workers from the bookstore.  Now I was seriously getting concerned that my body  mind would not be able to handle this separation.  A week without the internet, as I don't own a smart phone and didn't bring a laptop on the trip, was proving to be fairly easy.  But no bookstore visit might have ended up being the death of me.

So it was that I found myself meeting up with my sister and brother-in-law on my last day in the northwest and joining them in their search for a tattoo shop.  Our cousin had suggested two places, both in the Capital Hill area of Seattle.  My heart skipped a beat.  I think I think that's where the bookstore was.  Upon finding the second tattoo shop, and, more importantly, an artist who had time to work on a tattoo for my sister, I realized that there could be some time for me to fill that afternoon.  I discretely opened the travel guide and flipped through the pages.  My heart skipped a few more beats.  The store, in fact, was in this area!  The angels sang, the light shined down on me from the heavens...ok, maybe not from the heavens.  I was still inside the tattoo shop after all.  I deserted my brother-in-law and went in search of my Mecca.

Relief washed over me as I walked in the door.  My cold turkey experiment had thankfully come to an end.  I swear those angels were singing again too as I realized just how amazing this store is.  The gleaming wood floors, the towering walls lined with books, the tables neatly stacked with new arrivals; this was exactly how my mind imagined this store.  I perused the local interest section and looked over the display of their current bestsellers.  I happily found myself to be one of numerous customers in the store despite it being a perfect Seattle day outside, both warm and sunny.  I browsed their table of bargain books and noticed the sign that indicated that even more bargain titles were on the mezzanine level.  I admit to being a little giddy at the prospect of another floor of books.  I continued onward and upward for two hours.

I have never been so disappointed in myself as when I realized my lightheaded feeling could be real.  I had browsed my way straight through lunch time and into the early afternoon.

I reluctantly took my treasures to the front counter to purchase.  The employee suggested a frequent shopping card for me, but, with a true sadness that I hope I properly relayed to him, I declined, as my time in Seattle was quickly dwindling.  

Perhaps I can find solace in the belief, however misguided it is, that I was an employee of this store that afternoon.  The bookseller's impulse in me to straighten misplaced books could not be suppressed that day...