I was at a friend’s house on Saturday talking about – what else? – books. We sat in a room with floor to ceiling shelves on either end, overflowing with literature. A former librarian and bookstore owner, my friend knows practically every author, title and genre in print.
So I just about died when she told me how she and her husband share books.
“I just tear off the part I’ve read and give it to him so he can start.”
I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing. “You tear your books? Apart?“
“Well, obviously not the hard covers, but the paperbacks. That’s what they’re for.”
Your husband can’t wait two hours while you finish the book?
I’m the type of person that practically cries when my covers get a crease. And don’t even think about dog-earing the corner of a page. Have you not heard of a bookmark?
But to take your bare hands and intentionally rip a book in two? The woman is a librarian! They fine people for damaging library books. Bringing one back in two pieces would probably give our Solvang librarian a heart attack.
So tell me, have you ever “shared” a book this way? Actually, never mind. If you’ve defiled a book this way, I don’t want to know.
I’d like to still respect you in the morning.