Book lurve

My sister found this lede to an essay in the NYT so funny she had to call me and read it out loud:

“Some years ago, I was awakened early one morning by a phone call from a friend. She had just broken up with a boyfriend she still loved and was desperate to justify her decision. ‘Can you believe it!’ she shouted into the phone. ‘He hadn’t even heard of Pushkin!'”

A great essay for anybody who has suddenly lost interest in a romantic prospect after hearing those grating words, “I don’t really read.”  (Which is often said with a small amount of pride, have you noticed?  As though I am then expected to look over the edge of my glasses and purr, “O, that’s incredible, I find ignorance so SEXY.”)

This bookavore personally doesn’t allow men to buy her drinks before finding out the the last three books they’ve read (truly, it saves a lot of time and aggravation for everybody involved).  If you are the same way, you will also love the blog Hitting on Girls in Bookstores, which I have been enjoying a great deal.  Though, let me add a note of caution: if you are hitting on bookseller girls in bookstores, they are pretty much contractually obligated to smile at you and be nice, unless you are a total creep (for example, once we were visited by a faux-hobo who showed me the letter he’d gotten from his alma mater telling him he was banned from the premises), so don’t read too much into it.  But if you are cute and buying good books, they are probably enjoying it.  You should totally give the bookseller your email address on the back of a receipt (to remind the bookseller how good your taste is, see).  It might work!  At the very least, you’ll have a new friend to sneak you readers’ copies.


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