Last week, we three sheep just happened to find ourselves lamenting about our lack of reading material. It seems each of us had finished a book the night before. Claire mentioned she had one to return to the library.
“Hey,” I said, “do you mind if we all come along, Claire?”
“Of course not, Angus,” Claire said sweetly. “That would be wonderful.”
“Excellent,” I said. “We’ll take Bob’s car.”
“Capital idea, old chap,” Bob agreed.
Actually, it involved a lot more squabbling about who would drive, who owed who for gas, where we’d stop for lunch on the way back to the studio, and who had or had not stunk up Bob’s car the last time he or she rode in it. But the short version makes us sound more like grown ups, so we’ll go with it.
On the way, we discussed what we would be looking for that day. Shocking no one, Claire wanted something DIY and crafty. Equally unsurprising, I’d be looking into my Celtic heritage by reading about noble warriors who once fought with kilt and claymore. Naturally, Bob snooted on about all the snooty snootfest things he planned to read.
Our first hurdle on our library visit was the “No Animals Allowed” sign. That is, until a leashed dog leading a sight impaired person came up. Then I noticed the “Trained Service Animals Welcome” sign. Since we are all highly trained journalists, I figured we fit the bill. No harm, no foul, bibliophiles.
On my way to the History section, I had my eye caught by the audio books. And that’s when I happened to accidentally catch sight of Bob…searching the online catalog for supernatural romance.
My friends, it was on.
I shadowed Bob until I knew he’d collected a copy of The Vampire Diaries. I hightailed it over to the craft section to let Claire in on the gag. When I noticed Bob also slipping into his usual snooty areas, I realized I might need a cover. So I ran over and collected a book of Celtic history.
We congregated at a table to peruse our paper and ink treasures. Although I’d grabbed it a bit at random, I found the book on Celtic history thoroughly engrossing. Claire accrued new projects from her various tomes on craftery at an alarming rate. But Bob. Well, all Bob received from his books was rope enough to hang himself with.
Bob arrived at the table ahead of us and we found him apparently engrossed in something snooty about art. Claire and I avoided eye contact at all costs, afraid the giggles would give us away. We sat and chatted about our books, allowing Bob to natter on about Impressionist this and Modernist the other.
All the while I snuck my phone around the side of his book so I could get a glimpse at what he actually read.
“Oh, look at this,” I said to Bob showing him my phone. “You’re not reading about art at all! You’re reading The Vampire Diaries!”
Bob turned nine shades of red as Claire and I giggled. The librarian shot us a dirty look and we knew it had reached the time for us to leave. As we piled back into Bob’s car, Claire came through with the last laugh.
“I knew we might not agree on what books to read,” she said to Bob, “but I never expected your taste would suck so hard.”
Well played, Claire. Well played indeed.