The Boyfriend and I studied at the Barnes and Noble cafe today. It is our second home. It is also the setting of many human dramas. Tucked behind our casebooks, the Boyfriend and I have witnessed some high-highs and low-lows from the good people of Michiana.
Here are some examples.
Ponzi schemer: Do you know what residual income is?
Gullible college student in hoodie: No, I don't know a lot about that stuff.
Schemer: That's ok, I can explain it. You know Elvis, right? Well, some people think he's dead, but I know he's alive and living in Hawaii. Every time one of his songs is played on the radio, Elvis makes money off it. That's residual income. And that's what you're going to get.
Hoodie: Great!
Schemer: Just sign up two friends.
Another time we saw a Notre Dame professor grading bluebook exams when an acquaintance approached him.
Acquaintance: Hi! Hey, how've you been?
Professor: Not well at all.
Acquaintance: I'm sorry to hear that. Is it a stressful time of the semester?
Professor: It's demons.
Acquaintance: Pardon me?
Professor: Demons.
Acquaintance: Oh...well, is there anything I can do?
Professor: There are only two things they hate: sincere expressions of gratitude and the Mass.
(Deafening silence as everyone in the cafe watches to see what the acquaintance will do).
Acquaintance/SAINT: Would you like join me and my wife for dinner sometime? Give me your phone number so I can call you sometime.
Professor (rips page out of the Blubebook, writes his number on it): The students never pick these up anyway.
Today a woman with a puppet on her hand began to set out glue sticks in the mid-afternoon. This was a very bad sign. Soon the usually quiet cafe was full of rambunctious children. I tried to concentrate on my reading.
"Here comes Martha," Puppet Lady cooed.
I glanced up. A giant mascot dog was waddling over to the cafe.
The kids screamed. I screamed.
"Martha the Dog is here to play with you!" Puppet Lady announced.
The Boyfriend looked up from Fed Tax. "Do you think that's the real Martha the Dog?" he asked.
"No," I hissed from under the table. "I think it's a grown man who's made a lot of mistakes."
"Martha's hungry, she has to go now."
From between the table legs, I could see "Martha" rub her rotund belly, then waddle off toward the staff room, where she was undoubtedly about to eat one of the children clinging to her tail.
I climbed out from under the table. Close call. Back to studying.
I SO wish I that I witnessed this event. From outside the window. Is there a better way to deter students from studying in Barnes and Noble? Well, maybe if a clown was involved.
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