Musings from Barnes & Noble Café
“Well I’m just people watching the other people watching me; and, we’re all people watching the other people watching we.” ~Jack Johnson
Does anyone really need a book titled The Secret Language of Cats? Lady, your cat is indifferent. If you do not understand your cat then your cat does not want to be understood.
There is a middle-aged schoolteacher type and her mousy elderly mother (the resemblance is simply too stark for the relationship to be anything but as stated) discussing a book titled Good Girls Just Don’t Get It. Uh… research?
A child throwing a tantrum in French is just as frustrating to the parent and as irritating to the “audience” as a child throwing one in English. “Angry Child” needs no translation.
Why share a dessert when you are both drinking your own Vente Mocha Frappuccino? You have maxed your caloric intake for the entire day with one beverage. Why sweat those of a whole brownie vs. a half?
There is a woman with a stack of magazines. I don’t think she intends to purchase a single one. (She didn’t.)
There is only one person with a laptop. She is also the only person in the café (minus the baristas) who is younger than me.
I should start a book club.
Order the spinach quiche. It looks and smells divine. Not to mention, the woman consuming it clearly looks as though she is having a special foodgasm moment.
People still read V.C. Andrews.
I should write more “thank you” notes like this chick next to me. I envy her dedication… or I am pissed at her for making us non-note writers look bad. It’s one of the two.
I am guilty of always thinking someone in a crowded public place looks familiar to me.
Some people should be banned from having the opening to The Lion King’s “Circle of Life” as a ring tone. Those very same people need to remember there are places where a phone should be on silent.
If your pen dies in a Barnes & Noble Café… the baristas will likely loan (or give) you a spare. Common occurrence, me thinks.