The boy in the bookstore

Warning: This post contains silly teenage like drama. All out of sheer boredom!

What I'm about to write today is about an unsuspecting boy that I saw in the bookshop.

I don’t think he noticed me right there in the corner. There I stood on a lazy Sunday afternoon right in the middle of the dead section. By dead I mean the classics, due to the fact that these authors are long gone and secondly due to the fact that there's such less takers for the classics section of the bookstore. I'm often surprised at this.

Coming back to the boy at the bookstore, there I stood having an internal battle with myself to buy a book. Thomas Blake or Alfred Lord Tennyson? Well I could perhaps buy both, but then a mental image clicked in my head of the pile of unread books that has steadily increased in my room. Not due to lack of reading, but due to my habit of splurging an insane amount of money on books.

Now let me tell you here my bookshelf is so full that I need to literally squeeze my books in between the empty spaces (if I find any at all).
I promised myself just one book while leaving my house. I would keep it at that!

So anyway, I reached over for the top shelf and pulled out a book by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. For short people like me it can be quite the task! Which reminds me, perhaps I should I write a letter to the bookstore with my recommendations.

There he was coming towards me! My goodness he was a sight! Tall, well built and carrying a book in his hand! Wow. My ideal man I would say. 

Being fed on so many movies and novels where the hunky hero comes in to save the day, I expected my hunky hero to come and help me extract the book from the shelf.

But I'd already taken the book I wanted! Damn, there goes my chance to be rescued (not lliterally). I mentally kick myself. Stupid stupid girl! What were you thinking?

By that time I noticed he had passed by, looking at the next shelf.  Religious books were kept in that section.  Well they say don't judge a book by its cover, well I judge a person by the books he reads. 
There I stood trying to decipher the mystery of the man standing next to me.

Now let me make it clear here that I'm usually not so overly calculating in my head. Yes I'm a girl that over thinks a lot but not for strangers. Yet here I was thinking over a person who I didn't know at all. What was wrong with me?

I decided to distract myself back to my books. Contemplating which one I could buy. There I hear, "excuse me?"

I turn to look at the stranger, eyes wide. Did he perhaps notice my stare earlier?

I quickly looked his way, he wanted to get a book from the shelf, and I stood in his way.*sigh*

I was lost in my books for quite some time after. Perhaps twenty minutes had passed. I stood in the aisle reading poetry, while the stranger stood beside me, reading the book he had picked.

I peeked a sideways glance at him, before finally moving to the next section. Barely two minutes later, I could see the stranger browsing through the same books. Perhaps it was instincts that told me of his presence. I picked my book and moved to the payment counter. I plopped my books on the counter and stood waiting for my bill. From the corner of my eye I could see the boy stand near the exit of the bookstore. I found that to be rather weird. Maybe it was a whole silly coincidence. I shrugged it off once again.

Perhaps I'd been acting like a giddy teenager all along. As I stepped out the door, I heard someone clear their throat. "Hi, I'm Chintan," said the voice.
I looked up straight into the stranger's eyes, grinned and replied "Hi, pleased to meet you."

Perhaps I wasn't being silly after all.

Ps: I ended up buying four books in the end, resulting in a high that only a good paperback novel could induce.
Showcasing my books to any friend who dared to listen and making them feel that perhaps I've lost my marbles for good.