Uhhhh, help?
Is it fair to cry out for help in this situation? Saturday night I'm in Borders Bookstore at Santana Row, San Jose. Saturday night after dinner with my girlfriend and her 16-y.o. cousin. It's nearly 11:30. The announcement over the intercom gives Borders' customers 30 minutes to finish mising and ring it up at the register. I look around and see... people who are outside of the mating gene pool.
These people either already have families at home, or will never begin one by hanging at the bookstore on Saturday night. Seated individually, in clustered chairs, are Silicon Valley's finest. Each has a stack of books. Some have notebooks and coffee. Each are oblivious to the passings of other people --- a meter from their noses. Maybe a few are on business trips over the wknd? Maybe some are waiting for their mates in other departments on another floor inside the same store? Maybe, maybe, maybe.
I dunno. But, help me if you ever see me in a bookstore at 11:30 p.m. on a Saturday night. I'm too young for that shit.
These people either already have families at home, or will never begin one by hanging at the bookstore on Saturday night. Seated individually, in clustered chairs, are Silicon Valley's finest. Each has a stack of books. Some have notebooks and coffee. Each are oblivious to the passings of other people --- a meter from their noses. Maybe a few are on business trips over the wknd? Maybe some are waiting for their mates in other departments on another floor inside the same store? Maybe, maybe, maybe.
I dunno. But, help me if you ever see me in a bookstore at 11:30 p.m. on a Saturday night. I'm too young for that shit.
posted by Atlas Reader at 12:30 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home