I swear it was research
My son's guitar lesson takes place at the famous Mojo's Music, around the corner from the library. While he was learning his riffs, I dropped by the library to pay off my constantly recurring debt and pick up the research materials I had requested through interlibrary loan.
So I sat in one of the comfy chairs and began to read. Presently a young mother came by with a baby in a stroller. She was trying to look at some titles and the baby was fussy. So I made faces. I smiled, stuck out my tongue, waved, played peek-a-boo.
The baby was laughing and mimicking me. But the mother was a little discomfited. Shortly I had to leave, but as I was walking out I couldn't help wondering why she had looked at me that way. After all, it was just faces.
Then I realized.
I had been reading a book titled, in big letters, "A History of Cannibalism."
So I sat in one of the comfy chairs and began to read. Presently a young mother came by with a baby in a stroller. She was trying to look at some titles and the baby was fussy. So I made faces. I smiled, stuck out my tongue, waved, played peek-a-boo.
The baby was laughing and mimicking me. But the mother was a little discomfited. Shortly I had to leave, but as I was walking out I couldn't help wondering why she had looked at me that way. After all, it was just faces.
Then I realized.
I had been reading a book titled, in big letters, "A History of Cannibalism."
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