I like books but I don't like bookstores

I wanted to balance out some of the heavier stuff I posted so here's one of my many quirks.

I love books! Obviously, since I'm an author, but I mean I really love books! I've been reading for as long as I can remember. My Fuzzy Blanket was my favorite book from the time I was three or four and I read it more times then I could possibly count. Before that I was listening to my mom read to me. Books have always been a comfort to me, I love reading my old favorites, exploring different worlds, meeting new friends and characters, cheering on a hero or sneering at a villain, I mean let's be honest how can you not?
So of course I love getting new books, writing them, reading them, discovering new authors, waiting for the next book in a series, you get the idea.

But... I hate bookstores!

Every bookstore I've ever been in (except for the ones set up at conferences or conventions) have towering shelves that are set close together and filled to the brim and the walkways are narrow. Every turn brings you further away from the sunshine and before long you have no idea where you are! If you played Marco, Polo in a bookstore the game would go on forever!
To make matters worse the shelves are so tall they block out the lights and every thing becomes dim, casting shadows around and concealing the monsters that lurk in corners. (Cousins of those who hide under the bed.)
When I go into a bookstore it's like I'm walking into a trap. I know something evil is waiting for me but I can't quite put my finger on what.  And then I get a little further away from the door, edging towards that magical section that reads "Fiction" and I start to realize, I'm going to get lost in here, which isn't so unusual because I get lost everywhere, but then I look around, my breath gets a little quicker, my heart races a little faster, my hands are starting to tremble because if I get lost I'm never getting out alive!
The shelves will close in on me, those monsters hiding in the shadows will wait for their moment until it's just the right time and I'm all alone and then they'll attack! It'll be just like one of those horror films that I refuse to go see because they'll give me nightmares for weeks and then, the worst of all woes, my life begins to flash before my eyes as I hear a voice say, "Can I help you Miss?"
Oh, it's just the clerk.