Bookride is running a series of posts on bizarre bookbuying housecalls. The latest installment includes an account of browsing a collection during an orgy, and the purchase of Clockwork Orange firsts splashed with blood from the murdered previous owner.
Fascinating stuff. Though not quite of this caliber, I've had a few lulus but I usually have to bite my tongue (or sit on my hands) because telling all would sour a commercial relationship.
Maybe booksellers should trade and blog each others stories.