If you’re an English person like me, you probably have — and actually love — a shit ton of books.
You can probably name your favorite book RIGHT NOW and have two copies of it somewhere.
The thing is about people who love, love, love books is that their bookshelves are not filled with “coffee table” books or books with interesting titles just for show.
(I went over to a guy’s house once and checked out his bookshelf. Political books, Howard Stern’s Private Parts Book, books on religion, travel books. Hadn’t. Read. Any.)
English lovers read their books.
I, for one, have read every single book on my bookshelf, which is precisely why they are on my bookshelf.
Novels, non-fiction, New Orleans books, even textbooks from college writing classes are on my shelf.
Even childhood books I love are on there (Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh WHAAT)
Because, when you love a book, like, TRULY love a book, you want to keep it forever so you can go back over and over it again.
(like, uh, owning the DVD of Dirty Dancing just to play the end scene.)
Todd didn’t appreciate that kind of love.
He dated Erica, an English major who, in true fashion, had collected her favorite books over the years to line her shelves.
There were novels and anthologies. Textbooks and poetry. Pages that had been worn from the number of times they were turned.
“OK, LOOK,” Todd told Erica when they moved into an apartment together after a year of dating. “There’s not a lot of room in this apartment."
"Ok..." Erica said.
"So, you’re going to have to sell your bookshelf and all your books.”
SELL her books!??!
Clearly, Todd didn’t understand or care about the things that were important to her.
That’s like telling your science boyfriend to sell his microscope. Or his ant farm.
Or asking someone who works for the SPCA not to bring home 3-legged dogs missing an eye.
“It doesn’t even take up that much room,” Erica protested. It wasn’t like she had an effing library. It was ONE bookshelf. That was along a WALL.
“No, it’s cluttering the space. You have to get rid of it,” he said.
There was no alternative. Everything else in the apartment made the cut except for Erica’s bookshelf. Todd wasn't budging.
So, Erica decided that in order to be a team player and a good roommate (and not knowing anyone willing to take boxes of books) she actually held a book sale outside of their apartment one Saturday morning.
“OMG, it was the saddest book sale ever,” she recalls.
Not only sad because she was selling the books she loved and didn’t want to get rid of in the first place, but also “sad” because no one showed up....because it was a book sale.
Todd was pissed at the low turnout. Haha.
So, while Erica ended up
Joy Luck Club lucking out on the book sale and got to keep her
possessions, she was stuck living with an A-hole that didn’t respect her things
or appreciate her passion for literature.
Not surprisingly, Todd and Erica ended up breaking up a short time later.
And not surprisingly, the shelf at Erica’s new place started including more books from the self-help section. Books that included the word “jerk” in the title.