While I was shelving in the genre fiction section I could hear a woman grumbling about poor instructions and about not finding any of the books and just generally about how unjust everything was in the world. So when she popped around the corner into my row I defied my tendency not to offer help unasked while shelving and inquired whether there was anything I could do for her.
She was looking for several books by Emily Griffin. She was told they were in, but she couldn't find them!
"Are you sure it's not Emily Giffin?" I asked. I was pretty sure it was Emily Giffin.
"No, it's Griffin." She said emphatically.
"I think it will be in fiction." I said, starting to lead the way.
"I'm pretty sure it's in romance." She said to my back.
Like I said I was pretty sure it was Giffin, not Griffin, but I had a weird hunch, one that would let me pretend to believe her, so I led her to the Griffins in fiction. There, perfectly misshelved, was one Emily Giffin book. I pulled it out and handed it to her.
"It is Giffin." I said. "The rest will be here." I headed around the corner to where the Emily Giffin books should be shelved. She followed slowly, examining her new Emily Giffin book.
"Here are the rest of them." I said, gesturing to a full shelf of Emily Giffin books.
"Oh." She said. "I'm sorry. I thought for sure it was Griffin."
"That's okay." I said. I meant it too.
After all, we weren't so clear on it either.