Marky

 Hindsight can be very painful.

When I opened my bookstore in August 1995 on Thompson Street in Greenwich Village, I was already known by the club owners, bouncers and bands as the guy who for the previous four years had the great books on his sidewalk bookstand. I started my business on St Mark Place in the Fall of 1989 in front of Trash and Vaudeville and became a fixture there until 1991 when I moved to Bleecker Street. I set up shop in front of The Village Gate where the owner Art D'Lugoff and his son became my regular customers. They were very supportive. I was there for a few months until I met James (Jim) McBride who was selling jewelry across the street in front of Kenny's Castaways. We became fast friends and I moved my stand across the street next to his. That is another story for another time.

Fast forward to July 1995.Jim and I were selling books on W 4th Street, what an adventure that was, when our friend Paolo approached me and asked if I would be interested in taking over the lease on his shop on Thompson Street. He was selling plaster statues out of a storefront on Thompson St that had been occupied by a man known as Crescenzo. I liked the spot and accepted the offer. I was open as soon as I got the keys. I already had thousands of books and was ready to conduct business. No building or remodeling, no applications, permits or permission from anybody, no promotion...I was open! Within a few days, I had an eclectic array of shelf units that must have been donated -I don't remember where they came from, but I had enough shelving for all of my inventory with space to spare.

Enter Marky.                                                                                                                                                  Marky, I didn't know his last name, Ianello, until several years after he passed away, was one of the first people to poke his head in the door to welcome me to the neighborhood.  I have never really thought about Marky in the years after I closed the bookstore until recently when I accidentally stumbled upon comments and memories about him on Facebook from my friends who are from what I call 'The Rew Circle' who knew Marky and loved him deeply. I saw a picture of him, and before I read anything, I said aloud, "Hey, I know that guy!". I learned about Marky when I started reading, and a great sadness befell me. Not because he passed away. Because I missed out on what could have been a wonderful friendship because I responded to him with indifference, and I was too busy to take the time to get to know him. To be completely honest, I just did not trust him. 

What did he do to cause my distrust of him?  In hindsight, nothing at all. Here was this guy with a big happy smile and nice things to say walking into my new store. I didn't know him. In the years that I had been in the village, I had never seen him. He never came to my bookstand on St. Mark's or Bleecker. No one that I knew knew him. No one had ever introduced us. For all I knew, he was just another bullshitter and potential problem. He was too nice. Too friendly. This is not normal. No one is that nice or friendly to me unless they have an ulterior motive. If I welcome this guy, he's going to try to con me, frame me or rip me off. This dude was trouble! Remember that I had been selling on the street for five years prior, and I had met and dealt with happy, friendly, smiling people who ended up causing me a lot grief. I wasn't going to let this guy ruin my new opportunity to succeed. He ultimately distanced himself from me. I didn't miss him or give him another thought. Actually, at the time, I was glad that he stopped coming around.

Now I grieve. I'm sorry Marky. This was truly my loss. RIP.