The other night, in the car, my sister, my aunt and I were discussing drivers not paying attention on the road and, specifically, how they’re always looking down at their laps. My sister and I just assume everyone is texting.
My 70-year-old aunt responded with, “Yeah, that or they’re just playing with themselves.”
I recently checked out David Sedaris’ book “Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk” from the library and have made several deductions about its previous borrower. Let’s begin:
The last person who checked this book was a woman.
She resides in Chicago, in/near Logan Square.
She’s most likely sporting a darker tan than usual, having recently returned from Los Angeles.
She makes a decent living - enough to vacay in LA - but still checks out library books. She’s a recycler.
She got this book from the library with the intent of taking it on vacation, even though she could have bought it used on Amazon for $0.01 + shipping. Yet she managed to not lose/ruin it during her trip. So she’s a fairly responsible person.
She sat in the 27th row of plane on her way to LA. She had the aisle seat.
There’s a good chance she listens to the podcast “This American Life” and/or reads “The New Yorker.”
Her name was Karen.
She enjoys reading, but has a short attention span, as evidenced by the fact that she checked out a book of short stories (a quick read), but didn’t finish it.
Lastly, despite her short attention span, Karen has a rare respect and appreciation for books; despite that this isn’t even her own book, she would never fold down the corner of the page to save her place.