I TAKE a walk to the local supermarket on Second Avenue. The bookseller, as tall as he is illegal, has spread out his weird and wonderful collection on the sidewalk outside Food Emporium again. I get a glimpse of Sartre, back issues of Cosmo, 100 Great Tips to Save $$$ and the African-American Bible—all priced at a dollar. "Bob Dylan's Tarantula—see ya got taste lady, you can have that for $20." He pushes, I fall.