The Land of Possibilities

It's Barnes and Noble, in case you were wondering. Jason and I have done the same thing when we go out for years now, at least most of the time. We meet up at the wretched Aroma's, hang out until I get tired of it and nag him into going elsewhere. We go out to eat, and then wind up at Barnes. Or Barney's, as I call it. The place is a refuge for unhappiness. Technically it could be any other bookstore, but for us it's nearly always Barney's. Think of it, within those walls are books on damn near every subject imaginable, at least in civilized company. Most anything that plagues the hearts, minds, or bodies of humanity is addressed there. The books offer hope, companionship, solace. I can find answers, if only for a little while, hope and strategy to make whatever it is that's bothering me okay again, cures for whatever ails me. My concerns do not have to be big ones, even boredom can be defeated at Barney's. I can always find some fabulous new something to capture my attention, to tell myself I will become expert at. It's fun; retail therapy of the best possible sort.