This afternoon I went to Border's to look up a book by my grief ministry professor. (It's always a good idea to include the professor's titles in one's bibliography for a final paper.) The in-store computer told me that the book was "likely" in stock in the PSYCHOLOGY: FAMILY: DEATH AND DYING section on the 2nd floor, so up I went. Well, I found DEATH AND DYING in PSYCHOLOGY, all right: one shelf above EROTICA, where a man was bending over, his nose in a book. I got the distinct impression he was not huddled over a grief book, and wondered if the Lord had sent me there on his behalf. I fingered a few grief books, giving the gentleman ample opportunity to notice that he was not alone in the aisle, but then I hurried off. Actually, I was looking for a salesperson. I hoped to point out to a staff member how unfortunate the shelf arrangements were, and to ask that the book I sought be retrieved for me, since I had no desire to return to that section.
The store was crowded with browsers, but the only staff members I could find were the three or four souls manning the checkout.
Maybe Barnes and Noble has a different shelving system.