Friday, June 6, 2008

Mr. Tumnus Likes His Coffee Black


So, a couple of days ago in order to get some writing done, I hired a teenager to watch the kids and I headed to the nearby Barnes and Noble. Even though my kids are 11 and 9 and perfectly capable of understanding the fact that I need one hour without being disturbed, something always happens to undermine that time. A remote control needs batteries, a hamster looks dead, a tv show is so compelling that I end up watching (curse you, icarly). It's always something.

Like I said, I headed to Barnes and Noble for a little peace and quiet. I love writing at a bookstore. There's always just enough noise to keep my head from exploding with silence and if I get stuck, there's a wealth of material for me to choose from as inspiration. Plus, there's usually a room full of people to laugh at...I mean observe.

So I sit down at a tiny round table and start to plan my article. I was getting ready to put my fingers to the keypad when something made me look up. I swear to you on the grave of Orville Redenbacher, there in front of me stood Mr. Tumnus. Now, if you are unfamiliar with the Chronicles of Narnia and the character Mr. Tumnus from said series, let me explain something - you and I can never be friends. Those seven books sealed my fate in the 6th grade. I had to do something involving reading and writing forever.

So, Mr. Tumnus is getting his coffee. He is about 5'2" tall, with a red goatee and a curly red mop for hair. He turns away from me and I promise you that his feet were cloven. Or maybe he was wearing brown leather boots. In any event, he looked to be about 45 and I couldn't stop staring at him. I was just waiting for him to pull out his umbrella and give me a wink before heading back into his cave by the lamppost.

But he didn't, he just pulled up a chair and sat down to read his book. I had to know what it is that fawns read, so I walked by casually on my way to get coffee myself. It was a travel guide to the secrets of Disneyworld! I guess everyone needs to go there once. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it just wouldn't compare to his homeland. Mickey's great and all, but he's certainly no Aslan.

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