Hello,
I’m a newcomer on your blog. I found it this morning cited on neveryetmelted.com, another blog — my favorite, actually.

Well, I guess I have a still better story belonging to this genre, but it happened in France, where I live at this time.

On a last September evening I went to the biggest bookstore one can find around here, located in the city nearby (Troyes, in Champagne-Ardennes; a hundred of miles from Paris). It’s kind of French equivalent to Border’s and it’s a store big enough to afford having a small Books-in-English-Language department.
I first assumed it was the most likely place where I could find Atlas Shrugged; or order it, at least.
Alas, I wasn’t unable to find it on shelves, in English as in French neither, and so I asked for to a young saleswoman quietly working on her computer behind a counter.

–“Anne Reid,” you say?
–No, no, A-Y-N, and R-A-N-D, I spelled.
–Hmmm… No, I don’t find that name. Do you have a title? Said the girl who visibly assumed I could have been mistaken at some point with foreign orthography.
–Yes. Atlas Shrugged; Atlas, like the giant; then Shrugged: S-H-R-U-two Gs-E-D; I spelled.

I waited for a little while as the obliging girl was busying herself again on her keyboard.

–No, sorry, I don’t find this title. Are you sure of the author’s name and title?
–Oh yes, absolutely. It’s an American best seller since years already and it keeps going steady at a rate of about 500,000 copies a year.

She frowned and turned to her chief who was also working on a computer; an older an equally obliging woman on her 35.

–Does it ring any bell to you: Atlas Shrugged; Ayn Rand; A-Y-N, R-A-N-D?
–Hmm, no; never heard of; while addressing to me rather than to her younger colleague who went back resuming her search for my book.
–Well, I’m going to look for this elsewhere, she said, and if ever this book does exist then I’ll find out.

It didn’t take more than ten seconds before the girl exclaimed, triumphal, with a broad smile:

–That’s it, I got it!

I noticed that she was browsing on Amazon while I was bending to take a look at her computer’s screen.

–But why can’t I find it on my database, she said, then? Oh, it is available in English only; and — we can’t order this book for you, seemingly. We can order nearly all books in English you want; but, sorry, not this one, seemingly.

Still browsing the web while addressing this time to her superior who began to express some curiosity about our ongoing conversation:

–How curious it is, I am even unable to find any critics or else in French about this book!

The kind girl seemed sincerely sorry.

–I’m sorry sir, she finally said as she ended her search, did you try elsewhere in some other bookstores downtown? Maybe they can order it, but…uh…if we can’t then I doubt you’ll be able to order it elsewhere, in my opinion.

–I know; I tried while browsing their online catalogue, already, in vain; I answered.