Some theatre each day keeps the doctor away…

At the Delicatessen

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So.  (I feel like I’m starting a lot of posts with “so” at the moment.)  So, I was at the delicatessen/takeaway/fish-and-chip shop/what have you today, this afternoon, rather late because I woke up at something like 1.30pm today (good grief!, although I did go to bed at 3am or after); and I was at this delicatessen, waiting for my bag of chips to be deep fried into oblivion, and when the chips were ready, and I was called up to pay and receive said chips, a middle-aged bogan woman who had been there the whole time asked me something.  (I say ‘bogan’ not in a pejorative way, by the way, but merely as a useful shorthand to describe her outward appearance.)  She asked me what I was reading.  (I’d taken a book with me for the wait.)  “Leonardo da Vinci,” I told her, showing her the book, “it’s a biography.”  She replied: “Intense!”  The woman behind the counter said, as I was paying, “so do you like to read, then?”  I can’t remember what I answered – something about “yes” and “it passes the time” and so on.

I was just rather piqued by the “intense!”.  I suppose it’s the slight buzz that you can get when what you see as nonchalance is recognised as brilliancy by someone else.

And that first paragraph has to be one of the worst bits of prose I’ve written in some time, methinks.


Written by epistemysics

May 25, 2013 at 5:04 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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