After my hair cut today, I sat in the lobby waiting for Mom while she had her hair cut. A few different people cycled through the lobby while I was there, but I didn't pay them much attention until two women sat on either side of me, both reading. Okay, fine, I sneaked some glances as the guy who sat two seats away from me for a while. He had a pony tail and the greatest complexion and fascinating fingernails; I was trying to figure out how to describe him. Honest. Anyways, back to the women.
On my right was a woman in her late thirties. She was wearing stylish activewear and had Prada sunglasses pushed up on her head, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. Very efficient. She was reading on a Kindle. I was tempted to ask what she was reading because she was scrolling through the pages more quickly than one normally scrolls, but slowly enough to not be skimming, and I was dying to know what kind of book inspires that level of speed reading, but I decided against it. She wasn't one of the women who complimented my black pumps, so I didn't feel up to breaking through the relaxed air of intimidation rolling off of her.
On my left was a woman in her sixties. She could have been anyone's grandma. Maybe it's my years of working at the quilt shop with its customer base of old ladies, but they really do all start to look alike, with a few subsets of Grandma-Types. This grandma fell into the "Big Friendly Grandma" category. She had a turquoise paperback, the pages yellowed with age. Because she was to my left, I couldn't see the front cover to see what she was reading, but judging by the size of the paperback and by the woman, I imagined it was one of many sappy romance books from the eighties that she and her friends pass around. Maybe it wasn't, but I'd bet a dollar it was.
And in my own hands a book as well. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, a book about writing. As I sat there, reading about observing the people around you to learn to write more convincingly I had to chuckle to myself. I was very absorbed in my book, I'm just well versed in paying attention while eavesdropping and people watching. I sat there, thinking about how to write, and I couldn't even bring myself to ask the people to either side of me, readers, what they were reading. Somewhere in another beauty parlour lobby in this cosmos sat another writer, learning to write and observing the people around her, and now here were these two women sitting next to me, reading that writer's book. I wondered if that writer would have asked those women.
It was a heady feeling for me. I pulled out my notebook and wrote it down. Thanks, Anne.
0 comments:
Post a Comment