A not obviously deranged guy comes up to the counter with some books, noticing a just-priced copy of Moby Dick.
guy: Yeah, did you ever read Moby Dick?
me: Yep, sure did.
guy: Wow, that was one book I just couldn't finish. I mean, you know? A hundred different words for 'white'? I had to put it down!
me: Huh.
guy: But, you know, that's those 19th century writers...buncha Puritans with sticks up their asses! I took the Teacher Aptitude test one time, I missed it by four points. You know, because of Silas Marner or some shit. I mean, I'm reading Dostoevsky, Balzac...there's a whole world out there, not just these stuck up Americans!
me: Huh.
guy: You ever read any Faulkner?
me, wising up: Nope!
guy: Lucky! Give me Orwell any day. Faulkner...Jesus. Too many words, man!
This has been your weekly ration of in depth literary criticism. Thank me later.
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