People-watching

[resonant]

There's a young man who buses tables at a local restaurant who'd make a lovely grown-up Ron Weasley.

He's very tall and thin. His hair is long and quite red. His nose is beaky. It's a very attractive look, at least for those of us who had crushes on Ursula LeGuin's Sparrowhawk at a formative age.

He has that restaurant-worker way of moving, as though he's not occupying space in quite the same way as the rest of us; a crowd that would completely defeat me somehow provides a path through which he can take his six-foot-six self, one tray loaded with dirty dishes, and two pots of hot coffee.

I was watching him over my pancakes this morning, wondering if being in the younger half of a large, loud family would teach you to move like that.

Later today, I spent a little time writing smut in the self-help section of Barnes & Noble. (Most of my stories get written in Barnes & Noble, though I really prefer the chair in the business section, which has a big table to put your feet on.)

A woman a couple of aisles over began having a loud, tearful argument with her significant other via cell phone. I couldn't see her, but I could hear her.

"Fine," she said. "If you want to play games like it's you and Susan, go ahead and play games. Control-fucking-freak."

There was a pause. "No, I don't, I really don't, that's why I'm sitting here crying in a bookstore."

Another pause. "I'm buying 'The Relationship Rescue Manual,' and in two weeks, you and I are going to have to make some decisions. No, don't -- I'm just saying. I'm just saying."

I caught a glimpse of her as she walked by, a tall pretty blonde about my age carrying a big paperback book. I can't help thinking that by the time you're having fights via cell phone, you're pretty much beyond the help of the Relationship Rescue Manual.

Comments

[evilprettykitty.livejournal.com]

I'm oddly facinated by people fighting like that in public. Last weekend I over heard a couple in their early 20's having a fight in a gas station parking lot. It was hard not to stay and listen.

[resonant8.livejournal.com]

I once saw a couple having a big screaming fight at one of the scenic overlooks on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Which was a terrible waste of a lot of beautiful scenery.

Why technology sometimes sucks.

[miriam-heddy.livejournal.com]

You wrote:
"I can't help thinking that by the time you're having fights via cell phone, you're pretty much beyond the help of the Relationship Rescue Manual."

Older and wiser as I am now, I can say that the only thing worse than the cell phone end is the email end. At least with a cell phone, you can tell when the other person's about to cry.

By email, no emoticon in the world can quite convey the complexity of "wishing it wouldn't have to end this way, please tell me it doesn't have to."

Re: Why technology sometimes sucks.

[resonant8.livejournal.com]

An e-mail break-up -- eek. Cold.

I've been lucky enough that all my breakups have been in person, except for one guy I dated in high school who did a disappearing act -- and in that case it was a good thing, since against all odds it turned out I'd gotten bored with dating him at exactly the same time that he'd gotten bored with dating me.

Barnes & Noble's big comfy chairs

[(Anonymous)]

I work in a B&N. A few days ago, a woman asked what our policy was on people who aren't there to buy books hogging all the good chairs. Essentially we told her we don't demand register receipts or proof of intent to buy before letting people sit down.

On weekends you can hardly walk through the store, what with all the kids sitting on the floor, and copies of the Kama Sutra and Everything Your Mother Never Told You About Sex and the wiccan spellbooks and graphic novels all over the place. It's kind of fun in a look-how-much-crap-they-left-on-the-floor-this-time-oh-look-more-sex-maunuals sort of way.

Kira November

Re: Barnes & Noble's big comfy chairs

[resonant8.livejournal.com]

I work in a B&N.

You do? Can I come sit in your big comfy chairs?

I make it a point to always buy at least a mocha (if not a book or magazine) to sort of pay for hogging the chairs. But last night I dreamed I was sitting in B&N writing, and I got up to leave my chair for a few minutes, and when I came back the employees were wheeling the chair away, while giving me pointed looks. It's sad when your anxiety dreams involving losing Big Comfy Chair privileges!

They keep rearranging the store, but for a while there were three chairs overlooking the Sex and Relationships section, which made for lots of fun people-watching opportunities. Once I watched a guy who looked at least seventy, and he spent literally an hour looking at the Kama Sutra.

[nestra.livejournal.com]

I was watching him over my pancakes this morning, wondering if being in the younger half of a large, loud family would teach you to move like that.

Probably depends on the type of family, but I suspect with one that's as talkative and high-energy as the Weasleys, it probably would. I didn't grow up with a large family, but I see them on holidays and during summers, and there's a lot of coordination required to get everyone moving in the same direction at the same time. You learn to maneuver around people and how to steal the good chairs.

[resonant8.livejournal.com]

My father has almost a dozen siblings, but there's not a one in that family that you could call inconspicuous.

[amberfox.livejournal.com]

Poor woman. It's always painful when things get to that point. =/

And yes, being part of a large family will teach you that. My mother was one of seven, and most of her siblings and their families still live within half an hour of her parents, so we all get together a lot. It's fun, if challenging.