Fairly often, I will go on a date with a woman who tells me, without any hint of shame, that she “doesn’t cook” or “doesn’t read.”
Is that crazy? Or am I the crazy one here? These people who “don’t read” … WTF do they do with their time? Suck on the glass teat for six hours a day? And what do the non-cookers eat? McD? How much canned or fast food can you eat before you wonder what would result from cracking an egg, or what purpose the shiny “kitchen” serves? Can they really stand to eat every meal in a restaurant? Can they afford it? (I guess that’s where I come in.)
I know I’m supposed to be practicing my non-judgment, but every one of these conversations ever so slightly rocks my understanding of reality. After the Brazil-Côte d’Ivoire game this morning, we watched a wonderful cross-cultural soccer documentary: The Great Match. I’d like to make a documentary on one of these non-reading non-cooks, just to see what 24 hours of such an alien life form would look like.
June 21, 2010 at 3:12 am |
You’d need to incorporate lots of ad breaks to fill the 24 hours methinks