Grubby at PokerWorks

“I need to work on being charming,” I said.

I was walking up Clark St. with a friend. We had just left Borders.

At Borders was a display of Harry Potter books, Harry Potter diaries, Harry Potter stickers, and Harry Potter jelly slugs (yum).

Like anyone ignorant of all things Harry and separated from this part of ‘tween culture, I skipped to page 850 and read the last sentence, which I won’t repeat here because there were warnings not to talk about the ending.

While looking at the candy slugs, a bookish post-adolescent girl in her mid-20s came in and picked up the book.

“How much is it with the discount?”

I first looked down at the clothes I was wearing, wondering if I’d mistakenly worn Borders colors today.

“Forty percent off $35,” I said, “which would be… twelve… thirteen… fourteen… about $21.”

“Thanks.”

“Or you could just skip to the last page like I did and read the last sentence.”

“Really?”

“I won’t spoil it for you.”

“Oh, I already know how it ends, I just wanted to see how much they were charging for it.”

“You read the whole thing already?”

“Yup.”

And in a what-I-should’ve-said moment, I should’ve opened the book to a random page and quizzed her.

Instead I babbled, “I read the first sentence of the first book and the last sentence of the last book, and I imagine the rest. It’s more creative that way. I’m going to rewrite everything in between from the dog’s point of view. Is there a dog?”

“There is.”

“There you go.”

“You could call it Humphrey Potter.”

And that was our entire conversation as she took a copy of the book to the register. Jim and Pam from “The Office” it was not, but I’m out of practice.

I walked around to the new books section and attempted to riff on some book titles with my friend while in earshot of other girls browsing.

When we left — without the girls — we walked up Clark St.

“Want to go punch the punching bag?” he said.

I shook my head.

“I need to work on being charming,” I said. “I should’ve been able to sustain that conversation with the Harry Potter girl.”

“Oh, I thought you did fine,” my friend said. “She was into you.”

“But she left in mid-conversation.”

“You did great.”

“But she left.”

“All that was left was for you to go up to her.”

Chatting up strange girls is much more fun than playing online poker.

I need more practice.

This entry was posted on Friday, July 27th, 2007 at 12:57 am and is filed under Uncategorized.