Today I had a wonderful experience at the Uconn Co-op.
I walked in to get myself a bottle of water and left with three brand new books.
Here’s how it happened : Laughter. Attracted inside by voices and celebration, I wandered through the little aisles for what seemed like days, trying to find something new and wonderful to read. Rather, there were TOO many wonderful things to read (and I am, sadly, limited in my purchasing power). But I had a creative writing professor that told us to buy books whenever we could, to support our own, so I was determined to find one.
I was approached by a woman who watched me skim titles for a minute, then said, “Twenty-percent off books today.” There was a pause, then a smile crossed her lips. “Indulge.” It was more of a command than anything, and I certainly obeyed, looking through books I never would have picked up before. I thought about all the possibilities : Do my brothers need books? What do they even read? Is it ridiculous to buy a book for my brand-new baby sister?
More than anything, this woman made me feel wonderful, and in a way, free. They way she said that to me, indulge, like there could be nothing more decadent than buying brand new books to immerse myself in. She had faith in me. She still believes in a fantastic creature : a college student reading for pleasure.
I never want to lose sight of what I love. I wish I had thanked her for letting me play with the idea of putting homework second, of putting off sleep because I can’t bear to stop turning pages. She nudged me back toward what’s most important to me.
And toward a brand new, beautiful book of poetry that I can’t wait to crack open, a cookbook to keep me occupied all summer long, and a novel I’ve been dying to read.