Why Reading Is Good for You

I was shopping in my favourite bookstore - China in a Bull's Shop - when I began to wonder if it was worth my time. I had more than enough books at home that I hadn’t read and likely would not read. What was I doing there? I had to get back to work in about an hour and was distracted by the thought that I had forgotten my discount card. I had also walked to the store on my break with a sandwich and spilled lettuce and tomato all over my clothes. Wiping myself off, I passed between the double scanners, instantly setting off the alarm. After a friendly clerk looked through my knapsack and discovered my DVDs – borrowed, forgotten, and overdue – I noticed a piece of tomato which had somehow affixed itself to my groin. I suppose that was the moment when I felt that it was not worth my time. But I needed to go shopping. After all of those little incidents, I needed to take some time off for myself. A book would work, for the moment.

Let me explain my life and maybe you will understand why I was out spilling food over myself: I hated my job. Yes, we all do, don’t we (don’t we)? I was in a copy centre right across from the campus where I was attempting to complete a master’s degree in English literature without being certain what my subject was (I had opted for post-apartheid literature at a moment when apartheid had just ended; not much for me to work with). The best part of my job was observing what my fellow students would do to save money. For example, a group of students once came in to get a passkey for our customers-only copiers and proceeded to make several copies of one very expensive medical textbook. Clever, I thought, but there were also the students who came in with special projects that had to be printed on specific types of paper, could not be hole-punched beyond a certain number of holes, and the lonely, perverted, dull, pretentious and stupid regular customers that always entertained us. I am mercifully leaving my co-workers out of this because one got fired and the other was sent to jail for embezzlement. Imagine being in such an environment and still wanting to complete your education. Imagine seeing all that paper and copying and printing and stapling and still considering a book a precious thing worth taking time out of your lunch break to enjoy. Imagine…

Now, I was having my doubts about even the idea of a book. Yes, I had books sitting at home, unread; my job ate up too much time; and I could not think of what I should read if I found the time: History? Science fiction? Rock star biography? Forgive me. My tastes are very limited. I somehow ended up in the Graphic Novel section. I don’t even think that I considered what I was doing when I picked up a book and ended up at the counter. The tomato was gone, and the discount card was there, as were four people who seemed to make an appearance out of nowhere just to stand in front of me. Perfect, I thought. It was a fine way to end my trip. But then I looked, and learned.

Everyone in line was holding the same book; my book. A slim graphic novel had united us. At first I thought it was the continuation of some sort of joke at my expense. But then the woman at the end of the line noticed my stare, my book, and the similarity of our purchases. She smiled at me, and I had no choice but to return one of my own. By the time I had left the store, I had learned that the novel was a “best-selling new book” by an “up-and-coming new talent,” that bookstore clerks are not surprised by anything, and that it is perfectly all right to follow an attractive woman to her office, especially when she loves your jokes and works in your building.

And the moral of the story is reading is good for you.

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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