The Bastard of Barnes & Noble... or STFU

I really don't know who in Seattle hasn't been to the University Village Barnes & Noble. It's been around since I was thirteen or so, so easily over a decade it has stood. Proudly and easily the cornerstone when University Village turned from quaint shopping center of North Seattle where all you really needed was an Ernst Home and Lamonts, now it boasts big chain names and unnecessary symbols. And apparently the second busiest Starbucks in the entire world.

I heard you gasp.

A few years ago while unemployed I made a really awesome habit of hanging out at the second floor near where the old computer annex used to be. They tore down a few unnecessary shelves and added a bunch of big comfy chairs where, I suppose, people are supposed to preview books. This was where I read The Da Vinci Code in less than six hours one afternoon, and tore through House of Leaves in the span of three. Afternoons, that is.

Well now that I'm still unemployed (the tap and grill in Ballard hasn't called me yet) I decided to commemorate the event this afternoon by checking out what I could tear through in an afternoon.

Sufficiently caffeinated and armed with a $1.50 Metro card, I rode the 65 down to North Seattle's clock tower.

Making my way up to the second floor I failed at really getting into a Cormac McCarthy book, so I picked up Jeff Lindsay's latest Dexter in the Dark. I bought this book for someone for Christmas this year but never got around to reading it.

As I'm reading about sixty pages into it, there's a guy, a smelly guy, talking loudly trying to woo two art students not but five and a half feet away. They relocated when he got up to go smoke a cigarette.

One hundred forty five pages.
An Asian kid sits across from him and out of fucking nowhere - hey-you-look-like-you-want-to-talk-politics! Smelly and Asian guy start talking. Now excuse me. But if you're in a public commercial space that has books and you happen to be in a common area where people around you are either studying or reading, wouldn't you too adopt a library like mentality? Does Smelly?

Six pages and fifteen minutes later.
I look up at him. "Hey buddy?"
"Am I talking too loud?"
"Yes, but-"
"OK I'll stop."
I thought that would end it. Granted he did talk quieter. For about...
Two pages and ten minutes later,
I just stand up. "Was I still being too loud?"
Me: "Obviously. I think a cafe would be a better forum for your politics."
"I'm sorry-"

I really hope karma bits that guy hard on a bus. If he's reading some political science or art history book, I hope some obnoxious Juggalo sits right down next to him and blasts shitty music through his ear buds. I'd never wish that on anyone. Except for a few. You people know who they are if you know me.

Have fun making up that hour tonight guys.