Thursday, September 14, 2006

An Accident Waiting to Happen

Another day, another dollar, another list of 101 things I definitely shouldn’t say. Make that 102. Damn.

The woman was just being friendly. She wanted to know what he liked to read. He hemmed and hawed. “Well, what do you mean?” “Well, you’re an English major. You do like to read?” “Well, yes, but what do you mean?” He got lucky. People started coming in, we all laughed at the intimacy of what the woman wanted to know, asking the poor man to strip naked so we could examine his soul. But he’s young. He’ll adjust. In the future he’ll remember to always put on clean, impressive underclothes. Or maybe he'll even have the audacity to feel comfortable with his own skin.


Jesus Moya said...

Well put Charmi- I never thought of it like that even though I work in a library and sometimes people are reluctanct to talk about what they're checking out.

It's funny really, the things we let in and then guard, how intimacy can be attached to things such as books. Hm.

Charmi said...

Yes. I don't know that it's necessarily true that we are what we read, but sometimes it feels a lot safer to keep our reading list a very private thing. Heck, what you read can get you invited places or banned for life! I have the nagging feeling I'm on the road to Banishment. I hear they have a killer library and lots of writers there.

Lady Nyx said...

Hmm Handmaiden, alas, I am confused… since when did a preferred reading list become the window into one’s soul? I am to believe that I am what I read? This idea just doesn’t work for me. You see Haindmaiden, my days are filled to the brim with works of Shakespeare and Bronte alike, mixed with case studies of business scandals and Economic theory, followed by teachings of St. Augustine and great Buddhist monks, then on to social discourses on things such as race, ethnicity, aging, and gender, followed further by Freudian psychology and then if my eyes cooperate and manage to stay focused, by the end of the day I might even be lucky enough to throw in a good old dose of Biology 101. All this says about me is that, bingo, you guessed it, I am a college student and yes a well read one at that, but this is hardly who I am. This is what I read, this is what I prefer to read, as it is necessary to advance my educational status, but it is not what defines who I am, nor is it any way to examine my soul. My guess is that this young man is not much unlike myself. Further, and what bothers me more, is your assumption that this young man would care to strip himself naked and bare his soul to a group of people he knows nothing about. What makes you believe that anyone would be comfortable bearing their soul to strangers: this has hardly been my experience. True intimacy requires connection, time, and sincere interest to bloom. Surely your aware of this? No? And one more thing, personally, I think it’s the dirty underclothes that makes one’s life a little more interesting. What a boring man he will become with his clean underclothes and impressive reading list that he will carelessly roll off his tongue. Blah, boring, not interested. Where’s the passion? Where’s the intrigue? I beseech you handmaiden, think about it. Then one day you may even have the audacity to actually show real interest in the life of a stranger. C’mon, go ahead, give it a try. It’s called caring.

Charmi said...

Audacious reply. Now we're getting somewhere. And you thought I didn't care.


Jennifer said...

I guess I'm one of those that enjoys hearing about new books I could possibly read and ones that I haven't even heard about. It is how I make out my list of "books I need to read" and "books that sound interesting." I don't mean to expose the one questioned, but myself, to other works.