Almost all the buyers are incurable addicts.

So are the sellers, who occasionally purchase items when not volunteering.

But don’t be misled: There are no drugs. No booze. No butts.

Used books are their preferred vice.

Some are addicted to romance novels, bodice-rippers and the like. Some are drawn to true murder stories. Some favor volumes about sports or politics or scientific expeditions to the outskirts of civilization.

And some — like my wife — lean toward lighter fare, such as the humor of David Sedaris.

The buyer-fanatics would make the register in San Anselmo’s 20- by 40-foot Town Books ca-ching, ca-ching, ca-ching if the spanking new store had a machine instead of a cash box.

Me? I’ve bought nothing yet.

A voracious book reader into midlife, I’ve since turned to alternate worlds provided by newspapers, magazines, websites and, if you believe my spouse (who insists I’ll read anything), the backs of cereal boxes.

Cinnie Barrows — Friends of the Library stalwart who’s been as responsible as anyone for the shop’s birth — is much more typical.

She got hooked on books when her parents read to her “at a very early age. Then, still pre-school, I started using the library in my small West Virginia hometown. It was above the jail.”

She’s still addicted.

But others involved with the library, she insists, are even more so: “Some of the Friends read all the time.”

Cinnie’s worked her way down to wearing only two hats — “volunteer coordinator, which means I’m in charge of recruiting, and being the Tuesday manager.”

And she’s quick to cite two other Friends instrumental in the store’s gestation, Sue Neil and Shelagh Smith.

Sue, with her daughter Julie, helmed the shop’s design, including racks in the center of the room that clear away for special events.

She’s particularly proud of the shelves.

They were hand-picked, one by one, she says: “They’re all old bleacher benches from St. Louis that were re-purposed — some red, some black, some that had chewing gum on the bottom that had to get scraped off.”

Shelagh, who oversees Friends’ finances, co-wrote the volunteers’ handbook with Joan Boodrookas, the organization’s president.

Unpaid regular Sharon Bluhm commends it.

And says, “Fiction sells well — because it’s what we have most. So do children’s books and cookbooks.”

Early revenues hit between $500 and $600 a week, but they were based on being open only Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays from 10 to 4.

“When you consider most books sell for under $5,” says Sue, “even at $500, that’s a lot of books.”

Sales are expected to rise now because Fridays have been added.

Proceeds will help the library with what Debbie Stutsman, tow n manager, calls “a myriad of…things not covered by the general fund or parcel tax budgets.”

At least two volunteers staff the store at 411 San Anselmo Ave. each morning, two more each afternoon. Each day has a designated manager.

Though Town Books opened mid-September, the official launch wasn’t until last month, when 150 book lovers jammed what once housed Riccardo’s Italian restaurant and its endless empty bottles hanging from the ceiling.

Down San Anselmo Avenue, Michael Whyte, owner of Whyte’s Booksmith, rejects my question about competition. “I feel it’s more collegial,” he says. “The more bookstores in San Anselmo, the better.”

Whyte’s been supporting library projects for 30-plus years — “generously,” comments Cinnie.

Most of Town Books’ stock comes from individuals cleaning out their homes — folks like Lisa Mackey. “My mom is ill, in a nursing home,” she tells me, “and I’m bringing her books here.”

“Here” is the single room, but down the hallway is a 16×22 office where Eli Welber scans non-fiction barcodes to see if they can be marketed on Amazon.

His current online inventory is about 500 tomes. He expects the number to go up exponentially.

The afternoon I visit, a San Anselmo newbie who prefers anonymity scours the place for books dealing with the history of American poetry, while Oliver Kaufmann of Ross surfs the shelves (he’d earlier bought a novel and two nonfiction volumes).

They voice delight.

Some — like Kat Hench, who lived in San Anselmo but now resides in Novato — come to Town Books seeking something specific but don’t find it.

Few leave empty-handed.

But almost all, addicts or not, somehow leave with a smile on their faces.

Check out Woody Weingarten’s new blog at www.vitalitypress.com/ or contact him at voodee@sbcglobal.net.

[Woody’s [rating: 3.5]

When you come right down to it, I’m generally a non-believer.

I haven’t believed in the Tooth Fairy for a long time. Ditto the Easter Bunny and the Energizer Bunny. Double-ditto unicorns and centaurs.

Santa Claus? You must be kidding.

But ask me about a bumbling bozo brought up by elves at the North Pole who reunites in Manhattan with his human birth father and I’ll tell you, with a giant smile, that I wanna believe, brother, I wanna believe.

That’s because Buddy, hero of the gag-filled “Elf the Musical,” is so bouncy, so entertaining, so goofy.

Eric Williams, who plays Buddy in the touring company production at the SHN Curran Theatre in San Francisco, makes it virtually impossible not to like the character or believe in his good-natured, innocent spirit.

But to make sure my senior reaction paralleled those of theatergoers a few decades younger, I checked with the three kids I chaperoned to opening night.

Hannah, my 7-year-old granddaughter, was concise: “I liked the play better than the movie.”

She was referring, of course, to the 2003 comedy-fantasy Jon Favreau directed (starring Will Ferrell as Buddy).

She found the main character in the show “really funny,” but questioned the tale’s modernity. “I don’t believe that Santa has an iPad!” she exclaimed afterwards.

At least one urbane allusion had flown over her head.

Santa supposedly had stopped using reindeer after complaints from PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.

Questioned Hannah, “What’s a PETA? I know what a pita chip is, but what’s a PETA?”

Hudson, son of Hannah’s mom’s partner, was astute enough at 13 to discern minor blips. “Buddy forgot to button his vest,” he said about one of the many quick costume changes, “and it was obvious when he fixed it.”

He liked the show over all, though, especially its colorful costumes and multiple painting-like sets — despite finding the Buddy character “a little too dumb.”

But he also thought “some of the language might be a little harsh for little kids.”

Hudson’s younger brother, Kota, 11, clearly was the most sanguine of the trio. He appreciated 100 percent “how they integrated the musical numbers with the story,”

I loved watching my young companions’ reactions as much as I seeing the prime performers — all of whom were first-rate (most outstanding, besides Williams, were Harper S. Brady, who played Buddy’s half-brother, Michael, and Lexie Dorsett Sharp as Buddy’s stepmother, Emily).

Brady, who alternates with Tyler Altomari in the role, and Sharp were marvelous in two potent duets — “I’ll Believe in You” and “There Is a Santa Claus.”

Also superb was Maggie Anderson as Jovie, Buddy’s love interest. Her comic solo, “Never Fall in Love (with an Elf),” was brilliant.

A show-stopper.

The two-hour Christmasy musical will end its short local run Dec. 28, although it could easily become a perennial.

Because it oozes with charm.

Its 14-person chorus is as perpetually energetic as the aforementioned bunny, palpable in a scene of multiple dancing Santas and another when the elf-actors dance on their knees and create a Rockettes-like sequence.

Thanks to the combined imaginations of choreographer Connor Gallagher and director Sam Scalamonai.

Upbeat music by Matthew Sklar, lyrics by Chad Beguelin and a nine-piece orchestra conducted by Roberto Sinha help keep things blissful, with drummer/percussionist Aaron Drescher offering up the most perfectly timed, dramatic instrumentation.

For adults such as me, the show — which debuted on Broadway in 2010 — contains just the right amount of clever cynicism.

Such as when one department store Santa complains that today’s kids seem compelled to text while sitting on his lap.

Some adults, however, might prefer to take the family brood to “Nutcracker” again. Or re-read David Sedaris’ tale of his being a Macy’s elf, “Santaland Diaries.”

Some undoubtedly will pay attention to the youngsters.

The 15-minute intermission, Kota gushed, “felt so long — I couldn’t wait for it to end so the show could start again. ‘Elf’ made it onto the charts of my favorite plays. It was quite delightful. I’d see it again in a heartbeat.”

“Elf the Musical” plays at the SHN Curran Theatre, 445 Geary St., San Francisco, through Dec. 28. Evening performances, Sundays, 5:30 p.m.; Tuesdays through Saturdays, 7:30 p.m. Matinees, Sundays, noon; Mondays through Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays, 2 p.m. Tickets: $45 to $160 (subject to change). Information: (888) 746-1799 or shnsf.com.