-Now please please no please don't tell me now Crow Books, too…? I loved that place, the paperbacks shoved behind the other paperbacks on the metal racks because there wasn't space, the mostly sense that they just want to have all those nice books in there for you, waiting for you if you want - need - to discover something, and the bad lighting, and the rumply chair with its bottom rupturing stuff, and Mr. Shelling and his rectangular mustache and no employee recommendations and discovering Denis Johnson and Virgin Suicides and I just can't, I can't
The speaker expresses deep nostalgia and emotional attachment to Crow Books, a beloved bookstore filled with hidden gems amid a cramped layout. They reminisce about the charm of the store, from its inadequate lighting to worn-out furniture, highlighting a warm, inviting atmosphere that fosters literary discovery. The mention of specific authors, such as Denis Johnson and the Virgin Suicides, emphasizes the personal connection made through the books found there.
This fondness is tinged with sadness at the thought of losing such a cherished place. The speaker pleads for it not to disappear, indicating that Crow Books represents more than just a store; it signifies a crucial part of their literary journey and identity. In a world where great bookstores are increasingly rare, the loss of Crow Books would feel like losing a sanctuary for exploration and imagination.