Last night after running errands I decided to pop into Borders to see what's new. The answer: a lot.
Of course of all books to peruse, I choose "Shopaholic and Baby." It's pure chick lit. I'm happily reading away when a guy sits down at my table and proceeds to talk to me. His mouth is moving but I can't make out the words that are coming out. Its not that I'm not interested. Its more like I can't focus. So when I see his mouth stop moving, I know that's when I need to nod my head and act engaged.
"Blah blah blah blah blah."
"really? that's crazy!!"
"blah blah blah blah blah."
"uh huh."
"blah blah blah blah blah."
"i totally agree."
I did catch one question, which pretty much signaled the beginning of the end.
"so what book are you reading?"
"Shopaholic and Baby."
"oh..."
Well you know what mister?? I'm a rockstar. And I mean ROCKSTAR. Not groupie. I'm going to a top tiered b school! So don't you dare fucking look at me like I'm a ditz. My five remaining brain cells will stop ricocheting off my skull long enough to kick your ass.
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