On Saturday, Jose and I were wandering around Borders, something that has become a normal weekend event for us. At one point, I looked up from the magazine I was perusing and realized that we’d been in the store for almost an hour, so I got up to go find Jose and see what he had found.
I walked on tip-toes so I could scan the aisles in the middle, where the shelves are short enough that heads pop over the top, but I saw no sign of Jose’s head. I then walked down the side of the store to check each of the alcoves lined with tall shelves. In the middle of each alcove are benches and chairs, and I walked past them all, every single one was occupied.
I finally found Jose in the very last alcove. He was sitting alone on the end of the bench, reading the book about the Buddha that he’d picked up for the day. He was the only one in the whole row; the rest of the bench was wide and empty, very much in contrast to all the other rows I’d passed.
I didn’t think anything of it at first, and sat down next to him. I continued to page through my magazine, and didn’t really look up until a few minutes later. “SEX” read the spine of the books on the shelf in front of me. I looked at the adjacent shelves. The other books were calling out with all sorts of taglines — have better sex, improve your life, win friends and influence people.
I laughed. “You sat next to all the sex books, Jose; you’re in the self-help section. How did you ever end up over here?”
He responded without even looking up: “Yeah, I always sit here. It’s the only section that no one else will sit in.”
That made me laugh.
I am really sore today from the bike riding and bike crashing. Really sore.