May 21st, 2005
|05:03 pm - Today's Moment in STFU|
So I'm at Borders (or, more accurately, the Seattle's Best Coffee in Borders) reading Rats Saw God when a couple begins hemming and hawing over where to sit. The man vocalizes a plan to get me to move so they can have adjacent seats, and before he can ask me directly, I get up and move. The woman asks if it's okay with me, and the man answers that it's okay, I'm a good man. I am.
The woman begins talking about the coming of 826 to Ann Arbor, the writing workshop that uses a pirate store for a front in San Francisco and a superhero store for a front in New York. I tell her I've heard about the pirate store. The existence of this discussion serves to highlight the terms I am on with these people.
Later on, as I sit down with my Javakula (which does not hold a candle to a frappuccino), the man noticed what I am reading.
"So you're reading a teen book?" he says. Because there's a little sticker saying "Teen" on the spine.
"Yeah, have you heard of Veronica Mars?"
He shakes his head no. Of course he hasn't. Because no one has.
"It's a television show, and the creator wrote a bunch of young adult novels, so I'm reading them this summer."
"I was asking, because you look a bit beyond the teen stage." Because teen books are only to be read by teens.
"Yeah, I'm twenty-three. But just because they're written for a younger audience doesn't mean they're not good books."
"Do you want to be a teacher?" Because that's the only reason one would read a book for teens.
"...No. Well, I guess I could be one."
"You've read Catcher in the Rye?" Because that is the only book about teenagers that is acceptable to be read by twenty-three-year-olds.
See if I give up my seat for you ever again, Mr. Judgmental O'Philistine.
In other news, Jenny McCarthy is a New York Times bestselling author.
Current Mood: annoyed
Current Music: Marilyn Manson - This Is the New Shit