Today, I stepped off my train from a day at work, clutching my book and hurrying across the platform like the mad commuter that I have come to be, when someone tapped my shoulder.
“I really liked that book,” he said.
With my earbuds in, I did my usual panic. Someone is talking to you, hurry, take out your earbuds, stop the music, seem like a decent person. So I smiled, a nervous one that probably reeked of “I am not prepared to talk to a stranger.”
“Oh yeah?” I said. Perfect response.
“Yeah, it was really entertaining, I liked it a lot.”
“Yeah, it’s very funny, I like it so far.”
And then, this tall business man with tennis shoes on his feet and a five year old boy’s hand clutching his own, was off.
This dude had guts, and this dude is now my new hero.
How many times have I sat next to someone, a Kindle on their lap or a book without the dust jacket open and I’ve been curious, so curious to know what they are reading? And when I saw someone reading Allegiant on the train and all I wanted to do was gush about it, I just did it in my head. This guy, some stranger who had someone he was with, who wasn’t lonely or wanted to really chat, just wanted to have this mini book discussion. Like a Passer-By Book Club and we were the only members.
Thanks, guy. I enjoyed smiling about a book and having small talk that had some type of purpose behind it. It was lovely.
I just can’t seem to get the guts to bother a book reader. I am a book reader, I am in their shoes. I am nose deep in a book and have my headphones blasting. I get it, I know what is happening when I stare at someone who is reading a book that I desperately want to know the title of or discuss the intricacies of, I know they are invested right now and probably do not want to be disturbed.
But, but, but!
I also know that we have a common interest, I also know that you’ve probably read a book you really like and I really want to know the title and your two sentence review. Maybe I’ll get many titles out of you.
I’m not a shy person, but this part of me is off limits, closed off. It’s stifling and horrible but I know part of it is true: I know most book readers are busy in another world and don’t want to be bothered by me. Just like one of the reasons I read books, I want to take a moment, just a small one, to know more than I know now.
I just want to be the guy in the suit and tennis shoes.
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