Page 3 of Save the Drama for your Mama
“It’s just . . .” I dusted off the back of my jeans. “It’s not every day you see a man readingPride and Prejudice. I’ll admit it impressed me. Until you opened your mouth.”
He gave me a blank look. “Sorry to ruin your fantasy.”
I gestured to the novel that was still in his hand. “That story is a classic. Calling it rubbish is more than just foolishness. It’s outright treason.”
“You may wish to look up the meaning of treason.”
“There’s more than one definition,” I insisted. “And I would be happy to discuss the merits of that novel with you.”
“I would rather scuba dive with sharks while wearing swim trunks made of undercooked New York strip steaks.”
“Interesting fashion choice,” I said. “And since you bring up scuba, you should know thatPride and Prejudicetakes a deep dive into the complexity of human nature and the transformative power of love and introspection. Can’t you see that?”
He patted his pockets. “Interesting segue, but I must have left my rose-colored glasses in my curricle.”
“Fine—at least tell me what your problem is with the book,” I said, perplexed by his use of such an obvious Regency-era word.
“Everybody is entitled to their own opinions,” he said. “Have I stumbled into a pop-up book club?”
“No, but you’re stumbling with your answer,” I said. “I get it. You can’t handle the heat.”
“Oh, I can handle the heat just fine,” he countered, eyeing me up and down, and leading me to wonder if we were talking about the same thing. “This book is about a bunch of rich people whining about their lives. The plot revolves around characters obsessing over social status and marriage prospects. The fate of the world hangs in the balance because someone can’t find a suitable wife.”
Confident of my counterpoint, my smile never faded. “The story illustrates that people’s natural tendencies are influenced by the society they belong to, but can be changed for the better.” I returned the head-to-toe inspection, lingering at his bobbing Adam’s apple. “Well, most people . . .”
“Sometimes it’s the society that has to change, not one person,” he said. “Have you ever done something because everyone else was doing it?”
I shook my head. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Well then, I guess you are perfect,” he said.
“You were until you opened your mouth,” I replied. “Have you even read the story? I’m willing to bet you haven’t.”
“I know what it’s about,” he said.
My mouth fell open. “I knew it! You haven’t read it, and then you just rip it apart? You have no right to do that.”
“I have every right to dislike shallow people,” he said.
“Are you always so cheery?” I asked.
“You caught me on a good day,” he said, with a cocky smile that was disarming.
This man was testing my patience, but I was determined to best him with my intelligence and my literary integrity since I refused to leave and let him have the last word.
Something in his life was causing him to act irrationally, because most people are not so naturally annoying.
I could narrow it down to five possibilities.
1) A bad break up.
2) Chronic stress from work.
3) Loss of a loved one.
4) Financial problems.
5) He ran out of hemorrhoid cream a week ago.
