So, I got off the ferry from my two knitting classes five minutes after the time for Laurie/Crazy Aunt Purl to start reading from her new book. I trotted through the rain up the hill to Third Avenue with my umbrella, extra large purse stuffed with things like the skein of Casbah and a hat a friend couldn't finish due to mohair allergies, plus two sweater-sized project bags with all the sweater makings in them. No time to stop and drop stuff off at home.

As I hopped on a bus I realized that the free-ride hours had also expired about when Laurie purportedly started to read. I set down the two project bags and began to dig in my purse for my wallet. The drip from my umbrella ran into my left shoe.
The bus driver told me I had to move that stuff behind the line. I slung everything, including the purse, over the line and crouched down to pull the knitting out of my bag so I could find my wallet before we got to the next stop and someone wanted to get to the door to get off.
The light turned green and the bus moved. I sat down in the aisle - hard. I thought what an appropriately Laurie moment I was having as I sat there and rummaged for my fare. I found the wallet and the bus money stash, slung everything back over my shoulder and lurched back up to drop my fare in the box.
Eight blocks later I dashed off the bus, saving about seven minutes over walking based on my frequent experience with these hills and stoplights. About twenty minutes after the designated time I rolled into Barnes and Noble.
The store had about half enough chairs from what I could see through the standees. I found a spot where I could see Laurie between heads and also stash my load out of the traffic pattern. She had already sat back down after reading and now answered questions. What questions I don't know since I couldn't hear them and could only understand about half of what Laurie said. That half was funny.
When she finished I went up to the front registers to claim my saved copy of her book and see if they had more copies so I could get a second one. The young guy at the register really did seem sorry that he didn't have extra copies there.
I cruised around looking for where they had put the books - not with the knitting books or on any of the tables I could get to. Quite a few people still milled around working their way to the back of the line.
I asked at the information desk at the edge of the crowd. The young woman there thought the books were on a table right in front of Laurie. She waded into the crowd, but returned to tell me none remained. I got back on line at the registers and paid for my held copy, very glad I'd preordered one and wishing I'd requested two. I wanted the second to stash for a future blog drawing.
Then I made my way to the end of the signing line - literally. I was last in line until just a minute before my turn when a couple more people added on.
As I got on line, the woman in front of me told the woman a couple of people ahead that she looked very familiar.
"You know me?" she asked.
I looked up and said, "You're Rabbitch."
"Yep," she replied.
Only after I'd waited for the hour it took to get to my turn and saw Rabbitch sitting to one side with her friends did it occur to me that I'd never actually met her in person before. I introduced myself and chatted for a minute.
The wait went well. I talked knitting and town of origin with the three women in line ahead of me. I almost got a second book.
One of the women in front of me had no book. The redhead who seemed to be running the signing tried to find her one and thought she had. Then they discovered it was already inscribed and just misplaced by its owner so she still had none.

The woman who had been helping me at the information booth earlier showed up with an actual unclaimed copy. The knitter in me won out over the blogger and I handed it to the woman with no book.
When it was her turn for photos and signatures, that same woman joked with Laurie about Photoshopping the picture. Laurie said she intended to Photoshop one of herself with a naked Al Gore.
The redheaded organizer said that this was the best group she'd had in several years of signings and she do an event for knitters any time.
We just smiled and agreed. No one bothered to mention the need for more chairs, more books, or a microphone. She looked much too happy so we just left one more person with an improved view of who knitters actually are. Besides, we'd had a good time.
As I gathered my bags to leave Laurie told me she really liked a woman who traveled heavy.
The rain stopped as I walked home.