It is amazing that I balk at spending $1500 on a novel, but don’t bat at eye at $3000 textbooks.
Last week, I went to Bookophilia’s Open Mic Night with my best friend D and had a great time. There was poetry and music, and musical poetry and pretty boys who could rap and play the guitar. As in pretty boys who could rap and pretty boys who could play the guitar. No multi-talented pretty boys, I’m afraid. But the guitar-playing pretty boy looked like jailbait and anyway I’ve already got one handsome, charming guitarist in my life, and let me tell you: they are a handful.
Anyway, I came away from that night with a few conclusions:
1. Spoken word is meant to be spoken, not read out of a book. Note to self for future (performing?) purposes.
2. Aeropostale-wearing, Standard English-speaking boys singing about hustling is kind of hilarious. I mean, really, hustling? In Barbican?
3. Someone needs to give a headband to the boy who kept flipping his dreads back the entire time he was on stage.
4. If a boy starts a love song with a certain girl’s name then spends the entire song looking soulfully at every girl in the audience except her, it is safe to say he is not a Good Fellow.
5. Unrequited love looks both tragic and poetic from the outside. Perhaps moreso when the guy comes off as a total player (tragedy) while the girl looks sweet and completely besotted (poetry).
6. And finally, the best bookstores serve coffee. On couches. With ambient lighting.
Check out Bookophilia’s Open Mic Night every first Friday of the month. And their Facebook page here.