One day when I was home my mom had to work at the county library, so I went in with her, hung out at the library a bit, and then went to the local coffee shop to read and do a bit of work.
(There's an ayurvedic shop that opened next door; South Asians have reached my hometown for the 1st time sometime within the past 2 years, it seems.)
There I ran into a stoner friend of a friend, and as he was leaving this older white balding guy with a short beard who knew him sat down with us, and he talked my ear off when he found out that I study religion.
He teaches English in Korea, but was home visiting family, and he spends a lot of time reading non-canonical works, and going through word-for-word translations of the Hebrew bible.
Most recently, he was researching the demon Azazel, and the race of giants as described in the apocryphal Book of Enoch.
He told me all of this in like a non-stop stream of words that took him 40 minutes, and when I tried to come in with some mildly-redirecting comment, he would get very defensive, at the suggestion that I knew more than him.
Finally I excused myself to go leave and pick up my mom from work, and she said she was busy and had to stay an extra 30 minutes, and I should have called and checked, since I could have stayed at the coffee shop longer.
"Heck no," I was like, and told her about the demon guy. "Gosh is there some odd shit around here," I added.
"People come in here looking for demon books all the time," my mom was then like, as she continued to shelve books.
"Really?", I was like. "Like who?".
"Oh, no-one I can remember at the moment," she was like, "But this summer there was a very pregnant teeny-bop who was asking me for books on witchcraft."
At that she rolled her eyes and laughed.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment