Goodbye Borders.

A Fond Farwell… Thank You for Shopping at Borders

It’s early Friday morning, July 22, 2011, as always I quickly check email before jumping into the shower. As I scroll down through unread emails, from the night before, I almost skipped over the sender, “Borders Rewards.” The subject line catches my eye, “A Fond Farwell… Thank You for Shopping at Borders.” WHAT???? My heart sinks. I quickly open the email to see if this is a joke or a marketing ploy. I scan the letter with mixed emotions. The overwhelming sense of sadness, loss, grief, rejection and shock brought forth tears.

The letter begins, “Dear Borders Rewards Member, ...Borders will be closing its doors after more than 40 years…we fought valiantly to save the company…I want to personally thank you for your loyalty and support….we cannot thank you enough for giving us the opportunity to serve you and the millions of other customers who have shopped our stores over the years. My sincerest hope is that we remain in the hearts of readers for years to come. Many thanks, Mike Edwards, CEO of Borders”

The letter may have begun with “Dear Borders Rewards Member” but it felt more like a “Dear John” letter. My emotions are intensifying! Why? Why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea. How did I miss the cues? I’ve been loyal! I’ve loved you! This is incredulous. Where the heck have I been to have not known?

Do you suppose I suffer a bit with disenfranchised grief? Perhaps! Why the wave of emotions? Books are my passion—my escape, my education, my persona evolved from books. I have been a patron of Borders nearly from the day Borders opened its doors in Portland. When Borders expanded to Tualatin in the current DSW shoes building, I was in love. I loved the smell of books, the choices, the children’s section, and the mark downs. For years I shopped Borders for gifts and gift cards. I’ve purchased discounted children’s books to stock classrooms, to give as birthday and Christmas presents to students as well as family and friends. I purchased my IPOD from Borders that I still use to date. I bought educational books, research books, games, bags, music, toys, anything Borders sold I purchased being a loyal consumer. My loyalty to Borders ran deep. I even made certain that I ordered from Borders online just to make certain that Amazon did not get credit for sales. I was that crazily faithful to Borders.

Maybe my psychotic faithfulness to Borders was a bit “over-the-top” that led to the shock when I received the news by mass medium email from Mike Edwards, CEO. How could he do this to me? I deserved better. At least he could have told me first! Mike Edwards you are a recreant!

Emotions put aside, I had to make one last trip to Borders to commiserate with the employees, to titillate my senses with “Borders” and, to take advantage of a bargain. Naively thinking I could bolster down trodden spirits, I enter Borders armed with tissue looking for familiar faces. Instead, I find hoards of pitiless consumers, a long checkout line from the cash registers that twist around the store to the back of the store what used to be “Seattle’s Best” coffee shop. No recognizable faces of forlorn employees just callous liquidators milling about spinning opinions of what caused the demise of Borders. The only remotely forlorn individual was me! My vision of commiseration gave way to focused determination. With Amanda in tow, we head to the discounted children’s books to stock-up one last time with Border’s treasures. Instead of a real bargain, most books are marked 10% off with a few up to 40% off. That’s not a bargain—it’s a trap! Wait, I have an “Educators” discount card that boasts 20% off. Aha! Amanda I load our arms with books. No carts or baskets are available and the so called employees of the Asset Liquidation firm, like soldiers they process us through the checkout line, shouting “next.” After nearly 30 minutes standing, slowing inching forward, with piles of ‘bargain’ books gaining weight by the minute we finally heard the anticipated shout, “next.” We place our books on the counter in piles as the person begins scanning them one-by-one. The final book was tallied and I am armed with my Borders Rewards card, Educators Discount Card and a Borders Gift Card given to me last Christmas by a thoughtful parent. The person behind the counter curmudgeonly states, “There is no educator’s discount this isn’t good. Borders is gone!” She flips the card back to me. As I lick my wounds, I stupidly say, “You mean I can’t use my card?” She responds with a resound, “Nope!”

Bags in tow we leave the store one last time. Like the children’s books, “Goodnight Moon” and “Love You Forever” I bade farewell, “Good Night Borders! I’ll Love You Forever.” Pat