Bookstore Story

I read my last post again. Pathetic. I have a tendency to feel sorry for myself. It's a sad day when you give hours dreaming of the life you think you ought to have, wasting away the one you do have. Absolutely pathetic!

I spent this afternoon at the Barnes and Noble Bookstore. It's perfect for studying. It's not so loud that you can't focus on your work but not too quite for you to find distractions in little things. I usually find a spot next to the in-house coffee shop because it always smells of breakfast which makes me think of France which makes me happy. Don't ask how I make all these connections, must be something from my childhood.

So I'm sitting in my corner taking in whiffs of breakfast, picturing France in the autum and watching the woman sitting in front of me, with her back to me. My eyes lingered on the stack of magazines she had piled on her table. Must've been at least 15 high. She'd spent the better part of the last half hour gathering this collection, scrutinizing each one as though she were examining some grotesque creature perched on the shelf before adding it to her pile. In the last 10 minutes, she'd gone through everyone of them, downed her grande frapuccino and had placed an order for another. In my head, I named her Beulah because beulah sounds like a large big girls name and hot diggity dammit, it fit. She was enourmous overweight. Thanks to Beulah, I wrote this down in my notebook because I'd like to change the world some day and there's just so much to get get done.

The government ought to consider taxing fast food joints like mcdonalds and wendys and.... The government ought to consider taxing people for any extra space they may be using up. Every individual should be allowed a fixed amount of space...and I'm not talking just square area, I'm going volume here. The popuation of the world is growing fast and thus space is at a premium. Any "volume violators" will be locked in an enourmous power plant where they will be forced to work out until they shrink to the legal volume limit. Energy they give off from burning all that fat will be harnessed to provide energy (human hamsters, the new frontier) for law abiding, space conscious people who have for centuries been deprived of this energy by fatsos intent on hoarding it.


From out of a window, I spot a man and a woman skipping like Jack and fucking Jill across a road into a parking lot with a little girl, certainly no more than 10, following, walking at first and then breaking into a trot. This was the funniest shit I'd seen in a long time. They all get into a humongous black SUV the size of my bathroom and pull off. I honestly half expected the little girl to shoo her folks into the back, get in the drivers seat and drive off. Her parents were acting so damn loony. Who skips? If you're over 12 and skip through malls and across parking lots while your 10 year old daughter saunters along behind you, you need to have your tubes tied or your balls fried before you procreate again. Children should not be raising themselves or their parents. Thats just wrong and should qualify as child abuse.

TBC