Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
After about three hours of waiting, I realize I’m standing here with a big ass pile of books. I could at least pass the time with a little light reading. I dig through the bag until I find one that catches my interest and start reading. It’s good enough that I ignore my rumbling belly for a while and my full bladder until I can’t anymore.
I’ve found that I can hit the Greek place across the street when I get hungry. They have window seating that points directly toward Charli’s building. I can spot her coming from a ways off and get out to meet her at the door if she comes while I’m eating.
I keep reading while I eat, and find myself wondering if Charli would like this book, too. I realize we never really talked much about book preferences, but I did read some of her work. Based on what I read, I think she’d like this one. I make a reminder to put it at the top of the stack I give to her.
On all the other days, she has passed me by and at least glanced my way. No words, usually, but I at least get to see her. Today, there’s no sign of Charli. I stay a little later than usual, in case she worked late. Based on the uniform she wears, I know she got a job at the coffee place a few blocks down. I get paranoid and lug my big bag of books and dirty underwear down that way to check on her before I head back.
I’m not going to bother her, of course. I just want to peek in the window and make sure she’s alright.
But the place is closed up when I pass by.
Damn.
I have a brief pang of fear that she didn’t make it home, so I do the totally reasonable thing and head back to her building. Now, it’s not as if I’ve been trying to spy through windows to figure out which one is hers–it’s just that she sometimes opens it up in the mornings and evenings and I can hear her badly humming from the street below. She’s only three floors up, after all.
I collect a pocket full of rocks on my way back to her building. Once I’m there, I do my best impression of a teen lover and start pelting her window with rocks. It’s harder than you’d think, and I hit just about every window within four or five rooms of hers.
First, an angry balding man sticks his head out and tells me to go fuck myself. Then I get a pissed off teen who records me on her phone and sounds like she’s narrating some internet video about how many pervs are in New York. I finally see the light turn on in Charli’s apartment. I drop my rocks, pick up the bags, and run for my life before she can see I was the one throwing rocks at her window.
I read a little more and finish the second book before going to bed. Even though it started well enough, it wasn’t as good as the first book. I decide it’s not good enough to give to Charli and return it to Nolan’s office, where I stole it from. After all, if she’s going to make me wait, I might as well make sure I’m not just giving her any signed books. I want to give her the best of the best.
I repeat the same routine, except it rains today so I have to cross the street and read in the bus stop next to a homeless lady who keeps telling me about the cats she takes care of. She asks what I’m reading, and I eventually decide she might stop talking my ear off if I distract her. Once she gets past the part where I keep buying underwear from people, we seem to hit it off pretty well. She even tells me she knows a guy who probably has some really nasty underwear for me. I thank her, but assure her she really doesn’t need to reach out for me.
Instead, I give her the book I finished yesterday and tell her it’s a rare signed copy. She could probably sell it for a few hundred once she finishes reading it.
She thanks me profusely and leaves me to my reading and watching.
I fall into a routine over the next few days. Read, wait, watch, eat Greek food, and keep waiting.
It’s only a few days in when the real meaning of my signed book stunt sinks in. At first, I was just thinking I’d be giving her some valuable collectibles. I know she likes signed books, so I give them to her. Boom. Thoughtful.
Except I realize it’s more than that. I’m basically making her the world’s most awesome mixtape. I’m personally reading through a giant stack of books and deciding which ones are good enough to give to her. And best of all, they’re all signed, personally approved, and free. Suddenly, I’m not so worried that she has been using the back entrance of her building to avoid me entirely.