I found a first edition copy of Damon Knight’s collection Far Out used as “set dressing” for a bedroom suite in a furniture store, on the headboard together with a few volumes of Readers’ Digest Condensed Books.
I hassled the salesman until he agreed to sell me the book, and then I bought my bed down the road. I have no shame. (I paid two dollars. Score!)
My university would be a good place for this. The freshman book list has 42 titles on it, with everything from Plato and Greek tragedies to Endgame and Simone de Beauvoir. And they usually ended up on the same shelf as one’s personal reading, which often included titles such as The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, or Harry Potter, or manga volumes, or any other common reading material for 18-year-olds.
The one that really got me though (still does confuse me a bit) was my father’s bathroom reading. He usually keeps a magazine or two in there, Men’s Health or car mags or hunting publications. Then, one day, I spotted a Gideon Bible. For a moment I thought maybe Mom had just found my old copy and left it in there for some reason, but no, this one had my father’s name in it. Given that he’s never been the religious type, it was a real mental disconnect.
I once found a hardback copy of Barbara Hambly’s Those Who Hunt The Night on a display shelf in The Container Store. I begged the sales clerk to let me bring in another hardback and trade it out. She was bemused but agreed. 