I committed an irresponsible act today. I went to the bookstore with the intentions of finishing the Johnny Cash autobiography that I've been bullshittin' around with for far too long.
After paying for my Caramel Macchiato and one of those big-ass Reese's Pieces peanut butter cookies, I took a stroll around Barnes and Noble to see what they had that would catch my eye.
Immediately, I was drawn to a book called The Autobiography of an Execution by David Dow. As is the case with previous books, I picked it up, was intrigued by the description, and put it back on the shelf, while making a mental note to buy it later.
For some reason though, I picked the book back up and headed to my table with it, opened it up, and flipped through the first two pages...
...two hours later, I was still reading it. The book started getting creased up, pages were bending, the whole nine. Once I realized I was reading it that long, and totally neglecting the one I brought with me, I put it back where I found it and left.
It's irresponsible, because I know reading a book that long = go ahead and buy. However, I didn't do so, and because of that, I feel like an asshole.
Sorry, Barnes and Noble. Next time I come in there, I'll buy the book. I promise.
6/9/11 @ 12:32 A.M.