I was wandering through the sad little outpost of the Chapters/Indigo mafia on my lunch break the other day (there really is very little to do in Dundas Square once you’ve worn out your welcome at Best Buy and Crappy Tire and have developed an allergic reaction to the Eaton Centre), playing my favorite game of “Which store display will enrage me the most?” This game is wayyyy too easy at the World’s Biggest Bookstore, as whoever works there is quite fond of strict gender constructionism, and has been known to build big pyramids of books labeled “For Him” (motorcycles, George Carlin, military histories, rock autobiographies) and “For Her” (low fat muffin cookery, Elizabeth Gilbert wankery, random pink shit). By the time I leave the store, I’ve usually worked myself up into such a lather that I’ve probably burned more calories than a half-marathon. So much for Crapters’ claim that they are “a Canadian bookseller committed to providing a stress-free approach to satisfying the booklover.”

So, what did World’s Biggest Most Mediocre Bookstore have for me today? I was looking for a book on workouts you can do at home with no equipment. Sadly, the gender binary of the fitness section put me off. How ridiculous I was being, thinking that basic human physiology would allow men and women to partake of the same workout regimen. I just couldn’t bear the thought of buying either of these:

So I gave up and took photos instead. The fitness section was full of workouts for macho men and anorexic women, as well as general medical quackery:

And books stating the obvious:

Here, I am going to write my own definitive text on walking. Ready?
1. Buy comfortable shoes
2. Go outside/Get on treadmill
3. Walk at whatever speed you like for whatever distance is comfortable
4. The next time you go for a walk, try to increase your speed and/or distance
5. Dog companion optional

Done. I’m brilliant. Somebody give me a publishing deal.

There was also this:

Which is all well and good, it’s just sad that instead of digging up some lesser known books or using the display to link the King James to related events or topics, the World’s Biggest Most Mediocre Bookstore instead chooses to highlight books about insipid conspiracy theories and general nonsense. “The King James Only Controversy”? Really? Is that what counts for a controversy these days?

I will admit it wasn’t all bad at the store that day. They did have this nice, if not very exciting, display:

I came *very* close to buying a copy of Deliverance, which I have been meaning to read, but stopped myself. I knew I would feel dirty for the rest of the day if I bought a banned book from a store responsible for the downfall of the independent publishing industry.

Especially after I noticed this display sitting right nearby:

And yes, before I rage some more, I did check to see if I could find a matching “Girls With Brains” section. I couldn’t, however please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong. But anyway, it was hard to be too upset by a display as idiotic as this one. First of all, I think Francis Fukuyama would plotz if he found out, after all his hard work in the academy, he was one spot removed from Jay-Z. Furthermore, it wasn’t really clear what “Boys” referred to – sometimes it seemed to be referring to the author, like Fukuyama or Jay-Z, sometimes to the subject of the book, as in Einstein or Isaac Newton (referring to Newton as a “boy” is just awkward), and sometimes it referred to a woman, as in the author of Your Creative Brain, Shelley Carson.

I couldn’t help but think that some of these books would have been better served by different displays. “Boys With Brains” seems to be a key phrase meaning “Fun With Popular Science.” Dan Ariely is awesome, but how would the mere fact that he is a man (rather, a “boy”) convince a shopper that they should own his book? Fully half the population of the world is male, that’s not a very unique selling point.

We’re heading off to Vancouver!! We have properly invested in Olympic finery from the Bay.

The Bay mannequins wear their Team Canada gear…while apparently sitting on group toilets.

Off we go!!! See you in a couple of weeks!

There are all sorts of weird and wonderful things for sale in Toronto.

For up to zero percent off, you can get…

A disembodied ass.

And imprisoned French maid.

A one way ticket to dehydration!

A mysteriously vague product termed “Feminine Paper” (not to be confused with “Household Paper”)

A vintage bra/shoulder pad combo (how have I lived all this time without this product?)

And some quality beer in the Cabernet aisle.

Okay, let me explain my train of thought while taking a photo of this bottle of Schlitz, the most unfortunately named beer in history. When I was a kid, my parents would often reminisce about defunct beer brands, most notably PBR (which has since had a very annoying hipster renaissance), Rheingold and Schlitz. My father would talk about working the beer pavilion at the 1964 New York World’s Fair and my mother would then sing the Rheingold song:

In my head, these stories have also become conflated with the Miss Subway beauty contests, for reasons I can’t quite figure out. Maybe because I have put all the Forgotten New York nostalgia into one special place in my mind, or maybe because ballots used to be available at stores that sold Schlitz… it remains a mystery.