About once a day, someone calls Capitol Hill Books enraged. It’s hard to make out exactly what they’re mad about, but lately it’s been about the U.S. Capitol being “the great den of Satan.” They don’t realize they’re yelling at the wrong place.
“You’ve called a bookstore called Capitol Hill Books and not the actual Capitol,” co-owner Kyle Burk responds. “I suggest you look for your particular congressperson that you’re trying to reach.”
The caller is usually still angry, especially now that they aren’t getting what they want, which is to speak to someone with a big title about how they’re ruining the country. They usually assert that they are exercising their First Amendment rights. One person specifically asked to speak with Satan.
“We assure them that we have no power other than to sell them used books,” said Burk, 50. “Once it goes to Satan, it’s an immediate hang up.”
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The misdirected rage calls surge with the news, such as when Congress was debating the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. During discussions of the pandemic stimulus package, a caller demanded: “Put me through to AOC.”
“It’s kind of a classic, ‘Sir, this is a Wendy’s’ meme scenario,” Burk said. “We like our name. If this is the burden we have to live with, so be it.”
With midterm elections less than a month away, Burk said the calls boil down to: “Is this Capitol Hill? Let me tell you why I’m angry. I don’t like what you guys are doing up there. You’re a bunch of crooks.”
None of the owners take it personally. They know the callers aren’t actually mad at a bookstore.
Earlier this week, the store posted on Instagram: “Friendly reminder that we are Capitol Hill Books, a bookstore, not ‘the’ Capitol Hill, the seat of satanic power you keep calling to yell at us about. We wish, obviously, but sadly no.”
The store doesn’t avoid political discussions, which often reflect just how liberal residents are in this city. Customers have tacked fliers on the wall: an immigration film festival, an Amnesty International report on Sudan, a petition to oppose plans for a new Immigration and Customs Enforcement headquarters in D.C.
Capitol Hill Books is packed into a row house across from Eastern Market. There are 20,000 books, jammed anywhere the owners could find space. On the second floor, there’s a section on dirigibles, right next to erotica, but you need a ladder to reach it. A couple years ago, Burk said, they moved the law books into the bathroom.
The store doesn’t have voicemail set up, Burk said, because “That would be chaos.”
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