Blowhard, Esq. writes:
While in downtown L.A. this weekend, we checked out a hip new shop called, ominously and ironically, The Last Bookstore.
The columns give away that this space formerly housed a bank.
We arrived in the middle of a poetry slam.
The girl on the right read hers from an iPhone. The name of her piece was (I shit you not) “Arts Discrimination.”
Everything on the top floor is $1.
Whimsical book art.
But the best thing were the cheap pulps I picked up. The dates ranged from the early 50s to the mid 60s.
I love my Kindle and buying books on Amazon as much as the next person, but spending an afternoon at a top-notch bookstore is always a civilizing experience. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.
Blowhard, Esq.
Callowman
Sherbrooke
Eddie Pensier
Enzo Nakamura
Epaminondas
Fabrizio del Wrongo
Fenster
Brundle Guy
Glynn Marshes
Paleo Retiree
Atypical Neurotic
Question Lady
Sax von Stroheim
Sir Barken Hyena
The Mistaken
Uncouth Reflections 
There is something very comforting about books, just being around them, surrounded by shelves full. Even trashy ones.
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Thanks for loving the store! If you like pulp paperbacks, we’ve got boxes more that we’ll be putting out for sale gradually….
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“Indian Beef” sounds a heckuva lot better than “Arts Discrimination.”
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Those pulp covers are fantastic. As Kingsley Amis was so fond of pointing out, good pulp fiction is an art form all its own, and so are pulp covers.
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I didn’t see you pick up The Young Manhood of Studs Lonigan. Fantastic find. That bookstore really is all it’s hyped to be.
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There was a rack by the checkout and I spied it out of the corner of my eye. Only $1.50!
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Upbeat doom is the only attitude a bookstore these days should have, and this place seems to have that in spades. Thanks for the report!
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