Mr Izz finished his finals today…which means only 5 months until he is DONE, and only a year and a half until we are in Ireland!!! Anyway. Where was I? Oh, right, finals. He’s done, which is a grand thing. I went and picked him up after his last one, and since he didn’t have coffee before he left this morning, he decided to stop at a coffee shop on the way home. Of course I was thrilled. I mean, I love coffee, and this particular coffee shop has the added attraction of boasting a large assortment of used books for sale as well. And I mean it when I say large assortment; they have cookbooks, trashy romance novels, classics, kids’ books…you name it, they have it or something similar to it. But even with all of these lovely categories to choose from, there is one category I migrate to more than any other (after the trashy romance novels, of course)…the Poetry Section. Whenever I am in the coffee shop, it is an absolute necessity to see if there might be anything new and exciting in the poetry section. But I don’t run over to it immediately…I try to be coy and nonchalant about the whole thing. There is no need to let on how much I adore books of poetry. I’m certain Mr Izz has no idea of how much I really do adore them, based on my nonchalance. I am very good at it…I think.
I get my coffee and sit down to hear all about Mr Izz’s finals, my coffee cup firmly grasped in both hands to warm up my fingers. I peer at him over the rim of my cup as I take a sip, as he goes on about how he should have done better on such and such an exam, trying hard to focus on what he is saying. It doesn’t take long, however, until my eyes wander over toward the poetry books…I wonder if there is anything new? I haven’t been in here for a while…is someone talking to me? “IZZ! Do you want another cup of coffee?” he asked me quite loudly. “Oh! Yes, I do. Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” I reply. Mr Izz rolls his eyes and walks off. Now, why on earth did he roll his eyes like that? What a dork.
As he gets our coffee, my eyes wander back to the poetry section. It looks like there is a red book I don’t remember seeing the last time I was in. My interest is piqued by this time. I am half aware of my coffee placed in front of me, and Mr Izz sitting back down. Finally, he says “Will you just go over there and look at the damn poetry books? It would be nice to have you even somewhat interested in talking to me and you won’t be until you check them out.” I just stare at him for a minute. I have no idea where that came from…geeze. But, what the heck…I smile, jump up, say “I’ll be just a minute!:, and bound off to take a looksy. I think Mr Izz uttered “Be right back, yeah, right” but I’m not sure. By that time I was already at the poetry section. But he would have said it…he’s rude like that.
So, the poetry books are wonderful as always, but I have to see what that red book was. I find it quickly, pull it out, and…..oh my! It’s a book of selected poems and two plays by William Butler Yeats. Of course, I have to buy it. That’s a no brainer.
I skip back to the table in a jovial mood, take a sip of my coffee, and say: “See? I was only a minute. And by the way, I’m buying this book.”
“Another poetry book? Don’t you have enough of those?” Then he looks at the book itself. “I know you have at least one Yeats book! You don’t need another one! You’re starting to remind me of the Mel Gibson character in Conspiracy Theory!”
“I do not! You’re just being totally rude” I retort. I then spin on my heel and march up to the register to buy the book…making sure to throw a death glare his way as I walk. I swear, he’s nuts. I don’t have that many poetry books, and surely not tons of Yeats. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
We finish our coffee, then drive home, Mr Izz rambling on about his exams. And he says I’m obsessed. I walk into the house, give hugs and kisses hello to various Izzlets, and then proceed to put my new book with the other poetry books. Right next to my other books of Yeats’ poetry. Hmmmmm……SIGH! Oh well. I’m not saying a word to Mr Izz about this.