I have always had a strong suspicion that as I was sitting alone at a bar or restaurant (a table originally set for two) my favorite book in hand a great cocktail in front of me, I was actually irrevocably attractive. Don't mind that I tend to breathe with my mouth open, or that I find my face moves slowly into the book until my nose grazes the page and I have to sit back up straight and return the book to a good 8 inches reach.  If you overlook that minute detail, I was in fact a dramatic piece of solitary female art.  A woman, alone, happy to be reading in public.

However, my suspicion fell somewhere in the glances of what felt like pity or concern that spread from nearby tables toward my own, two-chaired, one napkined seat. The signals were confusing. Perhaps the pity was about the shame of my awkward lost-in-a-book posture?

But the Stranger set the story straight with their good old fashioned party, and story:

The Silent-Reading Party

On the Unexpected Sexiness of Many People Quietly Reading and Drinking in Public

#I'm reading a book ya'all I'm reading a book

#date a girl who reads

#girls who read

** I had to give those hashtag spaces since "girl who reads" could also be read "girl whore ads" and that's super uncomfortable. Right? **