I worked at a library as work study for 2 years at the college. There was this older guy named Terrance and he came to the library all the time. He would check out books of every sort. I mean Terrance read RUSSIAN novels. If you have seen a Russian novel, you know that they rival the weight of the Titanic. And Terrance reads Russian novels.
For this reason I could marry Terrance, if he wasn’t like 55 years older than me. I have never read a Russian novel, haven’t even tried. I tried to watch the movie version of Anna Karinnana once and I couldn’t even do that. So anyone that can read these novels are worthy of my undying devotion. Therefore Terrance gets my undying devotion.
One day, in my last week of working at the library, I was in the stacks making sure all the books were there when I saw Terrance sneaking around the fiction section. I’m convinced I was Terrance’s favorite student librarian. He always seemed to find me where ever I was in the library. Actually, part of that was my fault. I would fight for the desk when I knew that Terrance was there and checking out because I loved to see what he was reading and he knows so much about pretty much everything.
Being the oh so helpful person I am I asked Terrance what he was looking for. It was some book of Poetry by some Irish author. Being an English major I was sad that I knew nothing of this poet. But I justified it as not being having a concentration in poetry and it not being in my time period. And disapointingly I could not help Terrance
Later on I was at the desk when Terrance was checking out. Proof that he seeks me out. And we were talking and he goes “I read to much, I should stop.” and he looks away wistfully. Then he looks at me and looks at me intently and he goes “But if you stop reading your mind turns to mush.” I smiled and thought how true it is.
This was the last time I saw Terrance since it was my last week. But I understand his sentiment. I feel like sometimes I waste my time reading. But then I read something amazing and it makes me smile. So thanks Terrance for making me realize how much my reading matters. (Not that he would be reading this, It’s no Russian Novel)