Cauldron

I like books.

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I live in a small town and enjoy writing about the inhabitants. I spend most of my time perusing through used book stores looking for that one great book that I don't have; consequently, I have rooms filled with books. I am a book addict.

Saturday, May 28, 2005

Books and Brains/Boobs and Butts

There is a really cool bookstore in the city where I will be attending graduate school. It has rooms and rooms filled with old books, new books, cheap books, and books that are out of print. I can spend hours just looking at the books on one shelf, and there are so many books. Today, Mr. Zelda1 and I and a new friend of mine went up the hill, actually a big hill, to this used bookstore. My friend got a Riverside Chaucer for 25 dollars; did I tell you it was brand new? In the bookstore at the college it is nearly 100 dollars. Anyway, I found some cool books on Buddhism, one on Marxism, and one of my favorite authors, Zora Hurston’s book Mules and Men.

While I like to talk about this bookstore, my problem was afterwards when we decided to go eat. My husband is always teasing about going to Hooters, and since I had my new friend with, I didn’t want to seem like an insecure wife, furthermore, I had confidence going with another woman close to my age; so, when he says, “What about Hooters?” I say, “Sure.” And we go to Hooters. “It’s a family restaurant,” the husband says. Like hell! There were girls with little bodies and big boobs (by the way biology doesn’t usually work that way, little hips, little chest) running around in tight, thin t-shirts and ass-cheeks-hanging-out shorts bouncing those too big-of-boobs and well the men were all sitting there with their tongues hanging out, and I might add that the men were all in their forties and older except for a few pimply faced boys, who obvious were getting fodder for later. My point, why did I go there, it was awful, women are being exploited and while they make good tips, how much fun can it be knowing those men are watching their asses and boobs bouncing around. Men, who are too old to really have good sex with, or too ugly to have good sex, and these young girls are passing table after table smiling and then I’m thinking they can’t wait to get the hell out of that place. Those men really looked stupid. Why is it that in this day and age there are jobs where young girls and young women are put on display for their bodies in order to attract a crowd of men who don’t give a piss about the chicken wings? Are we no different today than forty or even thirty or twenty years ago? We are not, as a society, getting enlightened; we are, in fact, still running on primal urges of lust and war.

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