did you ever wonder

Twice lately I've seen one of those bright violet-colored PT cruisers. As Jack and I pulled up alongside one of the PTs, I had the feeling that it probably contained a female librarian, someone with short hair and glasses--I know, totally stereotypical. Guess what? I was right. Well at least about the short hair and glasses. I could totally see her as a librarian who was headed home from another long, fulfilling day of recommending reading and straightening up shelves and restocking books and never making complete eye contact with the patrons, to her messy apartment, to spend the evening singing and dancing to her 'Prince--the early years' mix tape--Purple Rain is her favorite--around her piles of clothing and dishes and food and junk mail strewn about the floor. She has removed her glasses and her pearl necklace and her white blouse with the lace collar and her beige-colored polyester suit, and instead is wearing her favorite jammies--a buttercup yellow cami with matching boy shorts that both have little bows and bits of lace here and there. She steams some veggies and toasts some whole grain bread to eat with her orange juice. She debates with herself--steak tonight or not?--and instead steams an ear of freshly picked corn on the cob. She follows her light meal with a lovely slice of cheesecake that she shares with her visitor who will not stay late because she will not allow it.

Up close, she is lovely and unique and self-assured, but she sees no reason to share that with any of the strangers she meets daily at the library. She smiles briefly and feels very content with the distance of her day life, which is so different than her night life.

I didn't catch a glimpse of the driver of the other PT cruiser. For some reason, I didn't have the same feeling about that driver. Couldn't feel anything. Odd, huh.