I have the Ah-ha moment whilst meandering through the local Building #19. The store’s self-awareness appeals to me and, I don’t know, maybe sometimes it also rubs off. This is the kind of joint where things wind up after close-outs, bankruptcies, accidents and acts of God; the kind of place where after handling the designer merchandise you hurry home to wash your paws. All round me, cartooned-up murals make bright declarations in letters the size of cinderblocks. Black, yellow, and red words remind me to “Suffer a Little, Save a Lot,” and that the free coffee (“Don’t laugh, someday you’ll be old and weak too!”) comes with free fake cream. The moment comes unannounced and definite, like a sneeze. I’m sifting through the hardcover kid’s books and they keep getting better and better: Do I want a beautifully illustrated African story ($2.99) or a nicely printed Caldecott medal winner ($4.99), or both? Then, Ah! —A peculiar ef...