“Hey, man. What cha doing?”
“Oh, nothin’. Just reading.”
Blank stare, and then…
“Huh.”
Silence as I go back to my book. Then…
“I’m not a reader.”
I look up at him and nod non-committally.
He continues—“Boring. It’s boring. I mean, I know they say reading is good for you but what the hell, I don’t see how. I just think it’s boring.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Yeah.”
I say, “What do you do for fun?”
“Well, I don’t read, that’s for sure. I dunno. I go out, party, you know. Have a few beers. I like movies, though.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I just don’t get reading. Honestly, I can’t even remember the last book I read. It was probably in high school or something.”
“Well, not everyone likes to read, I guess. No big deal.”
“It’s a waste of time.”
And I think ‘so is this conversation’, but I don’t say that. Instead I smile and say, “Maybe, I don’t know. I like it, though.” And then I go back to my book.
He starts to leave the room but stops and looks back at me. “Wait a minute,” he says. “I just remembered. I did read a book, a couple years ago. The DaVinci Code. It was pretty good.”
And he leaves.
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