Today I walked into a bookstore in Prague. 'Big Ben Bookstore' it was called. it sold English language books. the whole time I've been here, I've been looking for an English laguage copy of Milan Kundera's 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being.'
She was pretty. I know that sounds a little shallow, but it's true. and I don't mean 'hot,' like all the girls who make themselves up to look that way.
No, this girl was pretty. And she worked in a bookstore. And she has a nice singing voice.
She was singing along to the radio quietly. I kinda like that. That kinda shy, kinda not giving a fuck about who's listening to her doing her thing. It's something I find attractive.
And then I said something stupid, and she, very wisely, said something sarcastic, and witty as a reply.
Like Henry Rollins said, I just want a girl who can sit me down, shut me up, and tell me ten things I don't already know.
Re-reading this, I realise that my skill as a writer cannont do that moment justice. And as time goes by, I just may rewrite this to better encapsulate the moment. But it was a very real moment for me. And I will love her always.
Even though I know her only as The Very Sarcastic Bookseller
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