So yesterday I met up with my cousin at a coffee shop downtown. (I am indeed working on being a better person). It went really well and we were having such an engrossing conversation that I wasn't really noticing much about my surroundings, except that out of the corner of my eye I could see a row of really old books. When my cousin took a bathroom break, I grabbed as many of them as I could and started shuffling through them. I also started catching bits of surrounding conversation, and heard this from the balding man sitting at a table directly behind me: "I always charge for sex. Sometimes I enjoy it, but I still charge."
I was at least a little horrified, imagining who would choose to pay him of all people, and why he would do it, and so on. Then I wonderered what his impression was of me. Because I was sitting there with my nose shoved in one of those old books taking a big whif. I happen to really like the way old books smell.
I guess it was a little lesson in that old addage about treating other people the way you'd want to be treated. In his eyes I might be just as weird as he was in my eyes. AND that ties in to the bigger lesson about how I feel about my cousin that I was meeting at the same time - even if you don't agree with the choices someone makes, try to find a way to love them anyway.
Big apologies on the lack of posting - I've been busy tying up ends at work and busy with Denver Dog Photography. After next week I'll be a posting maniac.
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2 comments:
i think you are less weird than the bald sex man.
that may be true. . . but he might think i'm more weird than he is.
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