The Strand Bookstore tote: You probably don’t really live in New York. Either that or you’re a freshman at NYU.
The Powell’s tote bag (if you are not from Oregon): You are an eager participant in the growing field of bookstore tourism.
The Green Apple Bookstore tote: I will act impressed as you tell me about the time you met Dave Eggers when you volunteered at 826 Valencia the same night you made out with a hot guy/girl at a party thrown by The Rumpus. Just please don’t ask me to understand why you gave up San Francisco weather to live in a closet in Bushwick.
The Penguin tote: You had a really enjoyable time flirting with the idea of working in the publishing industry. This tote bag is all you have to remember those times by.
The Open City tote: You once arm wrestled David Berman, or possibly a guy who looked a lot like David Berman. There was whiskey and heady talk of aesthetics; everything’s a little blurry, to be honest.
The George Orwell tote: You are probably exciting to make out with.
The NYRB Literary Greenwich Village Tote Bag: Either you: A) Constantly tell people that you “relate” to Liz Lemon on 30 Rock. B) You’re over 45. C) Only read non-fiction and poetry books.
The Skylight Books tote: You wish all bookstores had trees growing in the middle of them.
The Barnes and Noble tote: You really enjoy that copy of Freedom you bought last week. Have fun reading it on your way back to Westchester.
The Paris Review tote: You really want to impress somebody by letting them know you read The Paris Review. (Don’t worry, we’ve all been there.)
The N+1 tote: You probably mention in conversation that when you receive a new issue of N+1, you skip straight to the Marco Roth piece.
The PEN American Center tote: You don’t have favorite authors, you have favorite translators.
This tote: you have no problem with lying.