The book was prepared to be quite angry with me if I didn't purchase it for John. It was a hardbound, gold-embossed copy of Pride and Prejudice. It's John's favorite book. John is leaving forever, soon.

I didn't have enough cash on me, so I had the guy at the store put it on hold. I saw Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle on the counter, where he'd put it down to help me. I commented idly that I'd just finished reading Slaughterhouse-Five (another Vonnegut book). This morning, I came to pick up my purchase.

Later, I got bored at work, so I decided to pull it out and write the obligatory sappy, "I love you man!" inscription in it.

Inside the front cover was a post-it note that read:

I laughed. And then I wrote a reply, saying that yes, I did like Slaughterhouse-Five, and I would check out Cat's Cradle, but I really thought Heller's Catch-22 was a much better war book. Thank you for the note; it made me smile. Here's my phone number. Then I took the note to him on my break. (My job and the store I bought the book at are in the same mall.)

One must understand when reading this that I am somewhat developmentally challenged when it comes to relating to guys in any way other than simply befriending them. This may be due in part to the fact that, despite being 18, I still hold the distinction of having been rejected every time that I've ever tried to prompt anything even semi-romantic with a guy. Whatever the reason may be, I still have tendencies toward the 7th grade "Oh, my God, what if he figures out I like him??? That would be soooo embarassing!" mentality.

I think it's actually the first time I've given a strange guy my phone number (other than job applications and stuff like that).