Abilene paradox: a paradox in which a group of people collectively decide on a course of action that is counter to the preferences of any of the individuals in the group.
Despite being surrounded by hundreds of thousands of words, the customers shouted. They coughed, they burped, they grunted, they slurped. They did everything except read. And think.
Bianca's relaxed smile stood out in contrast to the other customers waiting in the queue. She looked ahead at the three cashiers ahead of her, all in a row. The first was a woman, middle-aged, her hair raggedy and greying. She looked like she was a lifer and reminded Bianca of every front-end supervisor at every supermarket she'd ever worked in.
Bianca had always felt that names should represent the personality of its owner. She took a good look at the first cashier and hoped her name was Joan.
The second cashier was younger, prettier, and wearing glasses. The type who wanted the job because of her love of written words but ended up having to talk to people all day. Bianca went with the name Wendy.
The third was a young man, about her own age, with everything in its place. The kind of person who'd worry if his short-back-and-sides was short enough, back enough and not too sides. The kind of person who would grow up to become that annoying old neighbour, complaining about your hedge having crept two centimetres onto his side of the fence. I'll call him George, she thought.
Wondering which cashier she'd get, Bianca looked down at the book in her hand. Above the loud murmur, in the corner of her ear, she heard a man's voice saying: 'And here's your receipt. Thanks for shopping at Pages book store. Hi, next please.'
Bianca subconsciously stroked the spine on her book, feeling its smoothness.
'Next!'
She looked up. 'Oh,' she said, smiling back at a frantic face behind the check-out counter. George it is!
'Apologies for the wait, it's been hectic all morning,' said the man, before she even got to the counter.
'That's OK, it's that time of the year -.' She stopped short as she looked down at the name-tag on the man's chest. Written in a simple sans serif typeface was the name Matt. Ugh, that so doesn't fit him, she thought. She admired the simple design of the name-tag and was about to use Matt's name when she stopped and chastised herself: she got irritated when people used to do that in her old job.
'Welcome to Pages Fiction: revealing truths that reality obscures,' blurted Matt.
'Uh,' grunted Bianca.
Matt leaned in conspiratorially. 'They make us say that,' he whispered.
'Right,' said Bianca.
'Do you have your Pages Book Club Card?' asked Matt.
'No, I actually don't have -'
'So is it just this one?' said Matt, picking up the book. 'Ah, Hitchhiker's! Nice choice. I love the Vogons.'
'Oh no, I don't need to buy it,' said Bianca. 'I've already bought it.'
She looked across at Matt, expecting some kind of reaction. Instead, he continued to flip through the book, turning the pages carefully like they were scripture.
'I just need to,' she continued, 'um, return it.'
Matt looked up sharply, the awe in his expression quickly fading. 'You're in the wrong line. Returns are just over there. If you'd like to -'
'No!' said Bianca firmly, and quite a bit louder than she had intended. She took a breath. 'I mean, I've already been in that line and the lady said I'd have to come here. To be honest, I think she was a little confused about what I wanted.'
'That shouldn't be a problem,' said Matt. 'Do you have your Pages Book Club Card on you?'
'No. I told you before that -'
'Wont be much longer,' shouted Matt to the large and growing queue. He turned his attention to the book, closely examining the pages, the spine, and then the cover. 'Book's in good shape; no dog ears or anything. I'm sure you haven't just sneakily read through it,' he said, adding a fake little chuckle for affect.
'Actually, I did.'
'Hmm?' said Matt, not completely listening.
'I did read through it. I didn't like it.' She paused, screwed up her face, then shrugged her shoulders. 'I told the girl on the other count... -'
'What?' said Matt, before his attention was stolen by “Wendy”, the cashier next to him.
Bianca peeked at Wendy's name-tag: Monique. Oh, come on!, she thought, that's so not right. She looked up and noticed that Wendy - she refused to call her Monique - was looking back at her shyly, moving a hand to her chest uncomfortably while talking. At least it appeared she was talking - her mouth was moving, which is often a good indicator. But Wendy's prudishness had pulled Bianca out of the moment and allowed the atmosphere of noise to swamp in around her once more which, despite being quite exhilarating, made hearing difficult; especially for someone as soft-spoken as Wendy seemed to be.
'Just press function...then t...yeah, what do you mean you didn't like it?' said Matt, turning his head mid-sentence. The last part was directed at Bianca.
'I mean it wasn't very good. I'd heard how wonderful it was. How original, how funny. But it, err, wasn't.'
'But it's Douglas Adams,' exclaimed Matt. 'The towel! The meaning of life! Forty-two!'
'Didn't really do it for me.'
'You don't like humour, is that it?' said Matt, in a condescending tone.
'Of course I do,' said Bianca, feeling she had to defend herself. 'I loved A Confederacy of Dunces. And Catch-22.'
'Ah, I think I get it,' said Matt. 'Do you like The Office?'
'You mean the TV show? I don't see what that has to do -'
'Do you like it?' Matt demanded.
'It's not bad.'
'American or English version?'
'There's an American version?' said Bianca, honestly confused.
'Damn,' said Matt, annoyed that his anti-English theory was wrong. 'If it's not that, then why don't you like it?'
'Why does anyone dislike anything? Why do some people love dancing in the rain, while others run for cover after the first drop? Why do some people enjoy Dan Brown, while others seem to hate him?'
'Hrmph! You can't compare Douglas Adams with Dan Brown. A master of language and logic, versus a...a...hack! Not even in the same galaxy!'
'I'm sorry,' said Bianca, 'I think I've upset you.'
'You didn't,' said Matt with gritted teeth. 'Go through to the next register,' he said curtly to someone already on their way to Joan, the third cashier. He was starting to get a bit irritated by this customer. 'So you want to return the book because you didn't like it?'
'Yes, please,' said Bianca, smiling.
'We can't do that.'
'Why not?' said Bianca, still with a smile on her face.
'You've already read it.'
'Yes, but like I said, I didn't enjoy it. It wasn't...' She struggled to remember the specific phrase from the consumer protection part of her high school Legal Studies class. 'It wasn't...fit for its intended purpose.' Yeah, that's it, she thought. 'It didn't...I'm not sure how to put it...entertain? Yeah, it wasn't entertaining.' She beamed, now on a roll. 'In fact, I'm not sure how I made it through the last few chapters. But, you know, it feels like you're being rude to the author if you stop half way through.'
Matt paused for a moment, trying to formulate the words in his head. He spoke slowly: 'So you've read the whole thing, cover to cover, and you think you can get your money back?'
'Yes, please,' said Bianca, ignoring Matt's tone.
'Are you even listening to what you're saying? If you go see a movie all the way through, and really hate it, can you get your money back?'
'You should.'
Matt groaned. 'With you shortly,' he said wearily to the next customer in line. 'Look,' he said to Bianca, 'we've got a change-your-mind returns policy here at Pages. I can give you a refund.' He leaned in closer. 'All you've got to do is say you haven't read the book.'
'But I have,' said Bianca.
'I know, I know,' said Matt. He leaned in further, his mouth two centimetres from her face. 'But just say you haven't,' he whispered.
'I'm not a liar!' Bianca screamed.
Matt recoiled immediately. 'But you're happy to return a book you've read. Is this something you do often?'
'No. Normally I borrow books from a library. Then if I really like it, I'll buy it. Same with music: download it, play it; if it's good, buy it, if not, delete it. I can't think of anything fairer than that.'
'I've heard about you lot. Pirates. You can't tell me you buy anything you steal, let alone the stuff you like.'
'Not so much lately,' admitted Bianca, wistfully.
'Aha! I knew it!'
'No, I mean I haven't bought much 'cos there's so much free stuff around now-a-days. So many people giving away their music, their books, their photos, their drawings - everything! It's amazing. It really feels like a world-wide community.'
'Hello, dear.'
A tall, thin, wiry man had approached the counter. His bulging eyes flickered from Bianca to Matt, and back again.
Bianca looked at the man's name-tag and giggled. Finally! she thought.
'Is there anything I can help you with, Matt?' said the man, oozing sleaze.
'Yes, please,' said Matt. 'This customer wants to return a boo -'
'Ah, you're in the wrong line, my dear,' said the man. 'If you'll just come with me I'll -'
'No, you see -' Bianca started.
'She's read the book,' said Matt.
The man swayed back and rested on his heels. 'Hang on, hang on,' he said, 'let's do this properly. Now, mon cheri, welcome to Pages Fiction: revealing truths that reality obscures.' He puffed out his chest, almost comically. 'I am Humbert, the store manager,' he said, bending down and holding out his hand palm-up.
'Uh,' said Bianca.
'He wants to kiss your hand,' whispered Matt.
'Err, that's OK,' said Bianca.
Humbert cleared his throat and straightened up. 'And what is your name, my dear?'
'Bianca.'
'And how can I help such a delicate flower as yourself, Bianca?'
'I just want to return this book.'
'Yeah, but -' said Matt.
'Uh, uh,' interrupted Humbert, his body stiff. He drooped as he turned his attention back to Bianca. 'And do you have your Pages Book Club Card, Bianca?'
'I don't have one,' said Bianca. 'I didn't like the book so I want my money back.'
'So you've...read it?' said Humbert.
'Unfortunately,' said Bianca.
'Well, I'm sure we can break the rules this once,' said Humbert. He said it in a way that made Bianca want to follow every rule ever invented.
'But sir,' interrupted Matt, 'we have a policy that -'
'I'll take care of it, Matt,' said Humbert, annoyed.
'To be honest, err Humbert,' said Bianca, 'everyone should have the right to return something they didn't like.'
'You let me take care of them, petal,' said Humbert. 'Now, do you have your receipt?'
Bianca paused. 'Err.' She inspected her handbag and patted her pockets like she was a cop arresting herself. She couldn't find it.
Matt looked on, irritated.
Humbert maintained a perfectly creepy lip-curl - as if he'd been taught how to smile and had to focus hard to maintain it.
Bianca's face started to redden. Defeated, she looked down and picked up the book. Her face brightened as her fingers excitedly grabbed a piece of paper wedged in like a bookmark. She handed the receipt over with a smile. Even Humbert's lips quivered, one side rising an almost imperceptible amount. That is, until he took a closer look at the piece of paper in his hand.
'Oh,' said Humbert. 'Oh dear. I'm afraid we may have a large problem, here, Bianca.' He looked up.
Bianca's mind raced. She hadn't looked at the piece of paper before handing to the store manager. Perhaps it wasn't the receipt after all.
'I'm not sure how to say this,' said Humbert. 'It's just..it doesn't look like you purchased your book from Pages, at all.'
'Oops, my mistake,' said Bianca, grabbing the receipt and skipping out, leaving behind two open-jawed employees of Pages Fiction: revealing truths that reality obscures.
© 2010 Ben Safta
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Australia License
