Have you ever wondered how they change lightbulbs at the Barnes & Noble? You think some guy is just walking around with a 20 foot ladder and a bag of bulbs? No–that would be too non-invasive. Instead, they drive a cherry picker into the store and let its constant beep-beep-beep echo throughout the store for what was probably the entire morning. I don’t know, because Matador and I couldn’t last more than ten minutes. We each grabbed a book and got the hell out of there before the murdering began. As usual, when we arrived home, my wife asked us both what we got. Here’s the conversation she had with me:
Her: What book did you buy?
Me: Don Quixote.
Her: Really? You know there’s a copy on the shelf right there, right?
Me: *looking over her shoulder* Oh, no, I didn’t realize. (In my defense, the books on our shelves are arranged with the spines facing the wall for reasons.)
Her: Have you read it already?
Me: No, but I’d like to have my own copy anyway.
Her: That’s fine. I don’t want you touching mine because it’s old.
Don’t get me wrong; my wife and I communicate just fine. For example, last night, we made plans to watch a movie after we put the kids to bed which we both understood to mean be in bed and asleep by 9pm.
We have fun.