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Part of my job was arranging displays of art books, many of which were racy, but not in a way that bothered me because I was a third-wave sex-positive feminist who had taken a semester-long course on female sexuality. As part of my class, I’d written feminist erotica and was empowered to squat over a mirror.
The most forgotten of brick-and-mortar booksellers continues to try to get customers to buy it some more time as it verges on bankruptcy, and the ways in which is does so are becoming increasingly desperate. Being a subscriber to Borders’ e-mails, the only way to get a hold of its lucrative coupons, I’m privy to these attempts and all their overzealous subject lines, which seemed to culminate in a rather startling offer with this morning’s e-mail.