One evening, I was at a coffee shop reading a book. Some guy getting coffee at the counter came up to me and asked me if I'd read another book by the same author. I said I hadn't. He smiled and said, "Well, I hope you like this book. If we run into each other, let me know how it goes." I said I would. He smiled, I waved, he was gone.
I shared this with a male friend in the spirit of appreciating easy camaraderie between strangers.
My friend said that the man spoke to me because he wanted to sleep with me. The stranger didn't care squat about the author, he didn't care if we were like-minded, he didn't want to add value to my reading list, etc. "He spoke to you because you were wearing that”, he pronounced. (‘That’, by the way, was a hot ensemble of a ratty blue ganji and worn-out khaki shorts.)
“Really? He suggested a book because I’m wearing that?”, I asked with A-class sarcasm dripping from my voice.
“No! He suggested a book because he wants to get into that”, he chortled raucously pointing at my shorts.
I don’t think too highly of the male species…and yet, I have a better opinion of them than this member of the tribe.
P.S. - (Hey! Someone just recommended a film outside Globus...maybe he wants me to have his babies?)