I was frequenting my local Barnes and Noble, browsing through the bookshelves. This guy comes up to me and starts conversing, what do you do? What kind of books do you like etc. He told me his name (which I promptly forgot) and after a few minutes he says he has to go meet his brother. Fine with me, unless your name is Fitzwilliam Darcy do not bother me in the bookstore. I am busy looking at books about Mr. Darcy.
So anyway, time passes and I’ve moved down the aisle when he comes back again, saying, and I quote “Whitney, I think you’re cute and I’d ask you out…if I wasn’t already married.” Queue uncomfortable laughter. A woman a few shelves away, gives a surreptitious glance and the man whose name I couldn’t remember moves on. Not only did I not realize he was putting the moves on me, but he is also a pig! Plus, at the time I was 25 and look like I’m 15 so not only was he a pig he may have been a pervert too. It would have been ironic if we were standing next to Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita.
So I ask, are bookstore the literary bar? What the hell was that!