[matchup #54 in Tournament of Bookshit]

Last night I had a dream that I was talking to a really attractive girl at a bar in an airport.  We were having a great conversation, and I felt really good.  Somehow I had already seen the movie version of whatever J.S. Foer’s novel is called, and somehow this came up as a topic of conversation.  I laughed to myself and said, “You know what?  I liked that movie.  I really enjoyed watching it.”

The girl stared at me and said “why are you laughing?”

I said, “You know… because it’s that novel… by that guy.”

“What novel?  What guy?” she said.

“You know… Jonathan… Safran… [long pause] … Foer.”  Whatever jocularity I had previously inspired in her was gone from her face.  It was quiet for some time, then, abruptly, I said, “Look, is this going anywhere?”

“No,” she replied, “and it never was.”

So I got up and went to the nearest newsstand, confused by the sudden turn in the conversation, and bought a New Yorker.  I went back to the bar and sat at a different table.  I told the waiter to bring me a light beer, any light beer.  I stared down at the magazine I had placed on the table and realized I have no idea how tennis is scored.

– Andrew James Weatherhead

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WINNER: Daily facebook updates of what you ate / listened to while writing today