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What could happen if you meet Zoo on the train…

So Zoo comes home the other night and says, I think I really freaked out this woman on the train.

Now, Zoo always has train stories.  A couple of weeks ago he IM’d me to let me know a pregnant woman almost threw up on him. Last week, it was sparks and fire coming out of the heat vent.  So this could be anything.

Me: What did you do?

Zoo:  Well, the woman sitting next to me was reading a romance.  And so I said to her, oh, do you like to read romance and she was kind of like, sometimes.  But I didn’t believe her – I think she thought I would make fun of her.

Me: (thinks that this is going downhill fast)

Zoo: So yeah, so I’m like, oh, my wife writes romance novels.  And I gave her a bookmark.

Me:  That old ratty one you keep reusing in whatever book you’re reading?

Zoo: No, I carry some of your new ones.

Me: Oh.  What did she say?

Zoo: She just kind of took it.  Looked freaked.  Basically, I either made you a sale or lost you a sale.

Me: I don’t know if you should be my promo person.  At least maybe not say that I’m related to you?

Zoo:  Hey, at least I didn’t pass them out a Wake, like your mother did.

Me: You’ve got a point there.

12 thoughts on “What could happen if you meet Zoo on the train…

    • Lillie, he was pretty cute about it…until he left this morning and said something about doing more ‘train stalking’

      :0

    • LOL, Marie – he’ll say, see, someone’s in my corner! But it wasn’t my book she was reading…I asked him what it was / how he knew it was a romance. He said, I could just tell…

      So for all I know, it could’ve been like, a non-fiction political book…

    • He’s funny about it, Brandy. And he does have a shelf in his office with my books on it, so he’s very supportive. And scary…

    • Oh Emily, she did! It was for my aunt, who died at age 103, so the wake was definitely more of a celebration / remembrance of her life. And cousins and aunts and uncles I hadn’t seen for a while were asking about my books and all of a sudden my mother whips a plastic baggie out of her pocketbook and starts passing out the bookmarks. (Seriously – I was like, mom, please – put those away…)

      So everyone was walking around the wake holding their prayer cards and my bookmarks.

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