{"id":93603,"date":"2016-01-19T14:51:19","date_gmt":"2016-01-19T19:51:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=93603"},"modified":"2016-01-19T14:52:30","modified_gmt":"2016-01-19T19:52:30","slug":"acquisition-part-i","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2016\/01\/19\/acquisition-part-i\/","title":{"rendered":"Acquisition, Part I"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

From the cover of Victoria Gordon\u2019s Everywhere Man<\/i>, Harlequin Romance #2438.<\/p><\/div>\n

It was so cold that most of the flea market\u2019s usual vendors hadn\u2019t shown up. The blacktop playground was bare. Customers were so scarce that one seller chased us down the street offering ever-lower prices on a painting. We said no thank you. We didn\u2019t need it.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Then, indoors, after flirting with a wide velveteen belt and a souvenir spoon, I came across a stall selling books. I picked up a copy of the Little Golden Book\u00a0Pantaloon<\/em>. \u201cYou\u2019re not old enough to have read that,\u201d said the seller, who was wearing a woolen cap. \u201cI can guarantee that.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cI wasn\u2019t around when it was written,\u201d I said carefully. \u201cBut I read it.\u201d My gaze sharpened on a stack of cream-colored spines. These were old Harlequin romances from the seventies and eighties\u2014the best era, as any connoisseur of the genre knows. This was a good selection, too. The heroes were appalling, the cover fashions amazing, the scenarios ludicrous. I read over the cover copy avidly. \u201cInconsiderate, unreasonable, and dogmatic was how Ann summed up her new employer, the head of St. Cyprian\u2019s school \u2026 \u201d \u201cHired as a publicist for the Duval salon, Sara was caught up in the rivalry between aging couturier Henri Duval and his son, Paul, a brilliant new designer \u2026 \u201d Well, those were no-brainers.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take these,\u201d I said.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cYou women and your romances,\u201d said the guy.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I like to collect the silliest ones,\u201d I said. \u201cThere was this one moment when they got really interesting, in terms of dynamics, I think as a backlash to the women\u2019s movement\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t need to make up excuses,\u201d he said indulgently. \u201cIt was the\u00a0Fifty Shades<\/em>\u00a0of its time.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

My husband came by just then. \u201cI\u2019m going to the ATM,\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019ll be right back. Do you need me to grab you some cash?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked from the vendor to the pile of books in my hand. I wanted to leave. And yet I picked up another: \u201cAs far as Alix was concerned, Quinn Tennant was obnoxious, conceited, and he had a habit of showing up everywhere! She discovered he was her new boss, her landlord, and even the judge at the competition where she entered her dog.\u201d<\/p>\n

It had to be mine!\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, thanks,\u201d I told my husband. He walked away.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cYou<\/em>\u00a0married an older man,\u201d observed the guy. This was rapidly becoming intolerable. I tried to think of a comeback that would reestablish my dignity. \u201cI\u2019m older than I seem,\u201d I said coolly, which I don\u2019t think did the trick\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n

Sadie Stein is contributing editor of <\/em>The Paris Review, and the <\/em>Daily\u2019s correspondent<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It was so cold that most of the flea market\u2019s usual vendors hadn\u2019t shown up. The blacktop playground was bare. Customers were so scarce that one seller chased us down the street offering ever-lower prices on a painting. We said no thank you. We didn\u2019t need it.\u00a0 Then, indoors, after flirting with a wide velveteen […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":178,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13115],"tags":[12511,158,20822,15231,10030,20823,6664,8207,10033],"class_list":["post-93603","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-our-daily-correspondent","tag-city-life","tag-encounters","tag-flea-markets","tag-harlequin-romances","tag-romance-novels","tag-romances","tag-shopping","tag-used-books","tag-winter"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nWhen the Used Book Salesman Insults Your Harlequin Romances<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Sadie Stein at the flea market.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2016\/01\/19\/acquisition-part-i\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Acquisition, Part I by Sadie Stein\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"January 19, 2016 \u2013 It was so cold that most of the flea market\u2019s usual vendors hadn\u2019t shown up. 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