I’m what you’d call a serial dater. I recently ended a 9 month relationship with a really great guy. Things just weren’t working anymore. It happens. Before that, I was in a year long relationship. And before that… you get my drift. So I made a promise to myself that I’d be single, do my own thing, and just enjoy my friendships for a while.
This is easier said than done.
I frequent a used bookstore that’s near my workplace. They have a really great clearance section and I buy way too many books at this store. There’s a guy who works there who always says hi and chats with me. He seemed nice, had interesting opinions on books, but I never paid him much attention.
Until recently…
Let me set the stage. When I moved into my first apartment, my parents gave me their 2001 Isuzu Trooper. That car has been from Texas to Alaska and back. I took it to college. It survived a serious West Texas hail storm. It delivered many, many pizzas. It really was a trooper. I loved that car. But it suffered the inevitable death of many Isuzu Troopers: the transmission starting going out. So I had to buy a new car. And thank goodness for my wonderful parents – they found a used 2006 Honda Accord and loaned me the money to buy it.
Anyway, the point of this story is this. The Trooper’s CD player didn’t work, so I’d plug my phone in and listen to music on that. The Honda’s CD player does work, but I can’t plug my phone in and listen to music. So I went from not being able to listen to CDs to ONLY being able to listen to CDs.
So I decided I’d go to this bookstore and get a cheap audiobook on CD that I could listen to while I’m delivering pizzas.
Bookstore Boy appeared as I was studying the audiobook section and started chatting me up. He recommended The Leftovers. He said he hadn’t read the book, but he was watching the show. So I went ahead and got it. And, wow, yes, please go read/listen to The Leftovers. It’s good. It’s weird and intriguing and it might surprise you. I loved it.
Oh, and as I was paying for my new audiobook, Bookstore Boy handed me his phone number.
There Ought To Be A Place To Go 