Chapter 1: Let's do something

The day’s plan was simple: head to the bookstore, by myself; after which I'd grab a bite to eat, by myself; then I'd catch a movie by myself. Some time in-between all that I would grab a six pack and/or a bottle of whiskey, most likely, which I'd drink back at my apartment, by myself.

“I don't need her,“I thought concerning my Ex who I wasn't missing as I passed by the Classic Section. “Or her stupid smile, or her stupid blue eyes, or her stupid red hair. Stupid long, flowing, curly, red hair that framed such a divine face. Stupid face.”

I reached my safe-haven. Shelves of Graphic Novels, Trade paper backs, manga, and RPG role books surrounded me. I reached out and grabbed a volume of some random manga and flipped it open. I hate manga. She loves manga. I really hate manga. I sat it down and continued looking for....something.

I picked up a TPB of a superhero comic I had been thinking about checking out for a while. I heard lots of good things about the current run, the TPB collected issues 17-21, this month’s issue was 28… Oh, who cares? I took it and looked for a place to sit. I ended up at the store cafe. I didn’t get anything because I don't do coffee, and everything was over-priced. Not like I would know what over-priced was considering I don't do coffee, but all my coffee drinking friends assured me they were overpriced.

I cracked open my book about halfway through and went back and forth between glancing at panels and people-watching. I come for the books, but I stay for the people-watching. There was a guy in a suit on a laptop. Probably a business type, but it was more fun to imagine that he was a secret agent. A guy about my age reading a biography about a baseball player, turned coach, turned motivational speaker, which everyone and their grandmas are talking about. And, no, I'm not just using a cliché; my grandma will not shut up about the guy. An annoying couple being “coupley,” a girl probably younger than me reading a ...I don't know what.

That's when I saw her. A blonde with the kind of glasses that would have made Buddy Holly jealous, reading a book with a dragon on the cover. I fall in lust too easily. “I should go over there,“ I thought to myself, knowing I wasn't going to. I could go over and say something that would knock off her (most likely “Rainbow Brite”) socks. Something like "Dragons are cool." Or, I could stay here, read my comic book, and not be rejected. Ya, I liked that idea.

Lost in the panels, I found myself more irritated with the book than anything else. It reeked of everything that was wrong with the industry. I kept thinking thoughts that started with, “When I become a comic book writer..“ I was about to open my Moleskine(?) Journal and take some notes on the blog entry I was sure to write later that night when I noticed that the girl who was reading the “I don't know what” was now reading at my table, sipping one of the overpriced coffees.

"Um,Hi?" I didn’t know the protocol for this situation.

"Oh, hey! The gross couple sucking face was in my view, and it was really getting on my nerves. I was going to say something to them, but I thought that might be awkward," she explained.

"And sitting down at a table with a stranger without asking isn't?"

"I guess it is?” she said with a hint of up-speak, which I typically find annoying. Typically. "I was going to ask if you'd mind if I had a seat, but you seemed really engrossed in your funny pages."

"Comics are a perfectly legit medium," I said defensively, like I have so many times before.

She looked down at the open page, as the hero healed the decapitated head of the Big Ugly Villain, much to the relief of scantily clad Space princess, who was posing in a manner that would most likely snap the average human spine. Even more impressive was that she was able to pull the pose off while chained.

"Uh-huh," she agreed to disagree.

"Not this; this is garbage. Just like there are good books and bad books, good cartoons and bad cartoons, good songs and bad songs. There are good comics and bad comics. This comic sucks," I back-pedaled.

"Then why, might I ask, did it take you ten minutes to notice that a pretty girl was sitting across from you if not for Miss Bimbo In Time?"

"I was just ranting in my head. This kind of thing really sets the industry back. In an era where there is a new superhero movie out every time you turn around, the average person is more interested in getting into comics than ever. And how do we respond? By printing garbage that alienates the adult female audience, contributes to young female readers’ self image issues, give young male readers the wrong idea about how true heroes act, and gives guys like me who are sick of this crap a headache," I stated, not completely sure that I wasn’t just babbling.

She smiled. She smiled like she had just found a twenty dollar bill in her coat pocket that she forgot she put there.

"Then you agree," she confirmed.

"Agree with what?"

"That I'm pretty," she said . The question and the smile together left me at a loss for words. I let out a symphony of ,"Ums," and, "Uhs." She let me hang for a minute before she rescued me.

"Let's do something," Miss Pretty suggested.

"We are doing something," I replied, slightly dazed and confused.

“No. I mean, let's do something. You and I leaving the bookstore together and then finding something to do," she explained as if I were a little slow on the uptake.

"Wait. We don't even know each other, and what would we do?" I asked, even as I wondered why I was arguing with her.

"There's a whole big city out there. I love books as much as the next girl, probably more so. But you have to change things up a little, am I right? I mean, unless you have something planned for the day…" she trailed off, waiting. Suddenly the idea of watching early 60's sci-fi movies by myself while drinking to the point where I forgot the first appearance of Spider-man didn't seem as awesome as it did a few moments ago, but still the stereotypical shyness of my kith and kin took over.

"I don't know; I'm pretty busy," I said, retreating.

"I'm sure, but wouldn't you rather say that you spent the day doing random things with a random girls whose name you didn't even know rather than doing whatever you thought you were going to do today?" she tempted.

"Wait, what is your name?" I hadn’t even thought about it until she brought it up. We hadn’t even exchanged names, and she wanted to “do something.”

She sighed, "You completely missed the point. How about this? Instead of you giving me your name and me giving you mine, -you give me my name, and I'll give you yours. We can go by the names we give each other for rest of the afternoon."

It was strange how okay I was with the idea. My mouth finally caught up with my brain, and I went with it with no further questions asked. "Gwen," I declared.

"You are such a comic-book nerd," she laughed, as if I were so predictable.

I was kind of surprised that she knew where I got the name from. "If you don't like it then.."

"No, I love it; I love Gwen. Much better than MJ. And you can be Augustus." I stared at her blankly. "Ha. I out obscure-referenced you. However, the fact that you didn't get it makes me sad.We are going to have to change that. If you are going to keep up with me, you are going to have to do a lot of reading. Actual books, the kind without pictures."

"Ok, now you are just giving me a hard time," I said, unsure of whether to be amused or annoyed.

"I have been from the start," Gwen replied.

"Why me?" another obvious question I brought up.

"In this store, one guy is taken and the other is old," Gwen smiled with a shrug.

"Oh."

"I'm kidding. I don't know. You just seemed like…" she hesitated.

"Like what?"

"I don't know how to explain it. I suck with words sometimes," Gwen admitted.

"Do you do this often? Walk into a bookstore and find a nerd to be nice to for the day?"

"No, that's the point." she said with a smile. Truth be told, I was getting to know that smile more than I was getting to know her.

“Come on. Let's put our books back and get out of here," she urged, taking me by the hand.