Describe a shop you like going to

The shop I want to describe is a secondhand bookshop tucked down a side street near where I used to work, easy to miss unless you already know it's there. It mostly sells used books, as the name suggests, though it's got a slightly chaotic system — half organised by genre, half just piled wherever there was space when the last delivery came in, which somehow makes browsing there more interesting rather than frustrating. I used to go maybe once every couple of weeks, usually on a lunch break, less to buy anything specific than to just spend twenty minutes somewhere that wasn't a screen. What I like about it, beyond the books themselves, is the owner, an older man who remembers what you've bought before and will occasionally set something aside if he thinks it suits you, which feels increasingly rare in a world of algorithm-driven recommendations that are technically accurate but never actually surprising. There's also a smell to the place — old paper, slightly musty — that I've come to associate quite strongly with a particular period of my working life, so walking in there now does something almost involuntary to my mood, a kind of instant recalibration. I've bought books there I never would have chosen myself, which I think is really the whole point of a shop like that — it introduces you to things a search engine never would.