You know, sometimes I wonder... Well, if I hadn't been Fox Books, and you hadn't been…The Shop Around the Corner, and you and I had just…oh, met… I would have asked for your number. And I…wouldn't have been able to wait 24 hours before calling you up and saying, "Hey, how about…oh, how about some coffee, or, you know, drinks, or dinner, or a movie…for as long as we both shall live?" And you and I would never have been at war. And the only thing we’d fight about would be which video to rent on a Saturday night. (...) Well, let me ask you something. … How can you forgive this guy for standing you up and not forgive me for this tiny little thing…mm, putting you out of business? Oh how I wish you would.

Now, I concede I bring out the worst in you. But let me just help you to not say something you're just gonna torture yourself about for years…to come. … I hope you feel better soon. It would be a shame to miss New York in the spring.

People are always telling you that change is a good thing. But all they’re really saying is that something you didn’t want to happen at all…has happened. My store is closing this week. I own a store. Did I ever tell you that? It’s a lovely store. And in a week it will be something really depressing. Like a baby gap. Soon it will just be a memory. In fact someone, some foolish person, will probably think it’s a tribute to this city. The way it keeps changing on you, or the way you can never count on it, or…something. I know, because that’s the sort of thing I’m always saying. But the truth is, I’m heartbroken. I feel as if a part of me has died, and my mother has died all over again. And no one…can ever make it right.

I came home tonight and got into the elevator to go to my apartment. An hour later, I got out of the elevator and Brinkley and I moved out. Suddenly everything had become clear. It's a long story. Full of the personal details we avoid so carefully. Let me just say, there was a man sitting in the elevator with me who knew exactly what he wanted. And I found myself wishing…I were as lucky as he.

I’ve been thinking about you. Last night I went to meet you and you weren't there. I wish I knew why. I felt so foolish. And as I waited, someone else showed up, a man who has made my professional life a misery, and an amazing thing happened. I, I was able, for the first time in my life, to say the exact thing I wanted to say, at the exact moment I wanted to say it. And of course, afterwards, I felt terrible. Just as you said I would. I was cruel, and I'm never cruel. And even though I can hardly believe what I said mattered to this man – to him, I am just a bug to be crushed – but what if it did? No matter what he's done to me, there is no excuse for my behavior. Anyway, I so wanted to talk to you. I hope you have a good reason for not being there last night. You don’t seem like the kind of person that would do something like that. The odd thing about this form of communication is, that you’re more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say, that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many…somethings. So, thanks.

Well, if he's not here, he has a reason, because there is not a cruel or careless bone in his body. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand anybody like that. You with your theme park, multi-level homogenize-the-world mochaccino land. You’ve deluded yourself into thinking that you’re some sort of benefactor, bringing books to the masses. But no one will ever remember you, Joe Fox. And maybe no one will remember me either. But plenty of people remember my mother. And they think she was fine. And they think her store was something special. You…are nothing but a suit.

Querido amigo, me gusta comenzar mis notas como si ya estuvieramos en medio de una conversación. Pretendo que somos los mas antiguos y queridos amigos, al opuesto de lo que realmente somos, gente que no sabe el nombre del otro... y se conocieron en un chat donde ambos decian nunca haber estado antes. Qué dira NY152 hoy, me pregunto. Prendo la computadora, espero impacientemente a que se conecte, entro a internet, y mi pecho retiene el aliento hasta que estucho tres pequeñas palabras: "Tienes un e-mail". No escucho nada, ni siquiera un sonido en las calles de Nueva York, solo el latido de mi propio corazon. Tengo un correo. Tuyo.

Dear Friend, I like to start my notes to you as if we're already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend that we're the oldest and dearest friends, as opposed to what we actually are, people who don't know each other's names…and met in a chat room where we both claimed we'd never been before. What will NY152 say today, I wonder. I turn on my computer, I wait impatiently as it connects, I go online, and my breath catches in my chest until I hear three little words: “You've got mail.” I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beat of my own heart. I have mail. From you.

¿Alguna vez has sentido que te conviertes en la peor versión de ti misma? ¿Que una caja de Pandora con todas las partes odiosas, (tu arrogancia, tu maldad, tu condescendencia) ha sido abierta? Alguien te provoca y en vez de sonreír y seguir adelante, les dices en un silbido: "Hola, soy el Señor Odioso". Estoy seguro de que no tienes idea de lo que estoy hablando.
No sería maravilloso que yo pudiera pasarte todos mis silbidos y entonces nunca más me comportaria mal y tu si... ¡Todo el tiempo! ¡Y ambos seriamos felices! Pero, pensandolo bien, debo advertirte que cuando obtienes el placer de decir lo que realmente querias decir en el momento en que debias decirlo... el remordimiento es inevitable....


Do you ever feel you become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora’s box of all the secret, hateful parts, your arrogance, your spite, your condescension, has sprung open? Someone provokes you, and instead of just smiling and moving on, ya zing them. “Hello, it’s Mr. Nasty.” I’m sure you have no idea what I’m talking about.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you, and then I would never behave badly, and you could behave badly…all the time! And we’d both be happy! But then, on the other hand, I must warn you, that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it…remorse inevitably follows. …