Did you really scream? Like, waving your arms over your head and everything? 'Cause, that would be cool.
Ugh, I hear ya, but it just doesn’t work for me.
Moreover, I read “weird” stuff - technical manuals, math books, etc. I’m often asked whether I’m studying or not, and when I respond that, indeed, I like reading such things for fun, I get a lot of 
in response.
[hijack]
Everyone just loves to interrupt me.
I’ll be reading - “Hey Tony! Whatcha readin’?”
*I’ll be sleeping and I get the wonderful - “Hey Tony! You awake?”
I’ll be watching a gripping show - “Hey Tony! Whatcha watchin’? Looks goofy, haha!”
*hence rule #1 for my girlfriend, never ask if I’m sleeping. The answer is always yes while I am laying down, even if I seem to be awake. I am up when I am not interacting with the dream world.
[/hijack]
Was that from Children of Prometheus? I really enjoyed that book…
My old flatmate was like this. She was reasonably well read, she just wasn’t as fanatical as I am about reading, nor did she see the point of buying books, when you can just get them out of the library. She’d come home, and I’d be sacked on the couch, reading.
Her: ‘What are you reading?’
Me: ‘A Fine Balance’
‘Is it good? What’s it about?’
‘Yea. Um, India.’
‘Oh. I read a Wilbur Smith book like that bla bla bla…’
Every. Single. Time. I flatted with her for a year and she never ever just walked away after the beginning of the above exchange. She’d wander on into subjects like dinner, or her cat, or blah blah blah. I told her more than once ‘You know I’m not actually listening, right?’.
My mother doesn’t interupt me when I’m reading, but she doesn’t understand reading on the computer, and so if I’m not actually typing, she’ll keep talking to me, even though I’m just replying ‘uh’.
Luckily I take my work breaks with a coworker who is also a reader. We sit and eat noodles, in silence, reading our books. Its very relaxing, and at the end of half an hour we’ll ask eachother how our books are going, which often leads to a plesant conversation.
They usually identify themselves as such. If not by saying some of the things others here have shared such as “I don’t like reading” etc, but just in the “GOoollDURN” hyuuck, hyuuuck astonished tone they have when questioning you.
I’m trying to think of a good analogy as to why it’s rude, not to merely ask a question or two, but the type that JUST DO NOT GET IT and keep ON trying to interrupt you when you’ve made it quite clear, short of slamming your foot into their gaping maw…
How 'bout this one. You’re really very very hungry, and you’ve FINALLY gotten a chance to eat lunch, but someone sits down and keeps moving the food away from you for several minutes at a time so that your eating takes on a disjointed atmosphere, and your hunger is not really being satisfied.
Sorry, that’s probably pretty poor, I have a headache, but it’s sort of along similar lines. We’re “hungry” for the entertainment and escape that books bring, it doesn’t make us antisocial, it’s no more odd than someone watching a movie for entertainment. And as someone else said, there are going to be times where we’re perfectly willing to put down the book and converse.
Another poster lines out the whens and whys of that quite nicely above.
It’s just that, it’s OUR lunch hour we’d like to unplug and relax away from work, and often, that especially means our coworkers.
Don’t leave us hanging! Even the most well-adapted women what?
Yep! Admittedly the SO is probably reading for at least 200 people, but still.
My mother believes I have too many books. No I don’t, I merely have one and a half large bookshelves of books. That is not a lot of books. I get reminded of this every single time I have to move.
Furthermore, if I am reading, do not interrupt me. I couldn’t give a flying fuck if this thing you’re watching on the TV is the best thing ever, I do not care. At all Leave me alone, and let me read my book. Grrr.
The worst thing was when I was at the parents’ house over Christmas; I went to buy a newspaper, and my dad was with me. I picked up newspaper, and took it to the cash register. Dad’s comment, “what are you buying that for?”
Me: “Well, its a newspaper, I’d really rather like to read it”.
Dad: “But isn’t it a bit big?”
Bear in mind this was a weekday edition of the Guardian. Not that much of a read, really. It just annoys me slightly that I’ve been a voracious and avid reader since I was really rather young. My parents still haven’t figured out that I prefer a book to almost anything else.
Besides, it costs very little, who cares if you did just want to read some of it. But, I’m wondering what he THOUGHT you were going to do with it 
Meh, I think its the fact that its a “broadsheet” rather than anything else.
Yes, that’s exactly it. People see a person reading and think that it’s only because they have nothing better to do and then they feel compelled to “save them from themselves”.
They can never comprehend that people might just be reading because they enjoy it instead of 'cause they’re sad bastards with noone to talk to.
Oh, well, if he meant big in WIDTH not WORDS, then I’m inclined to agree. Apologies to both 
I know I should be able to cope with broadsheets, but I find the smaller size so much easier. Regardless of what’s in it.
It could also be that you are the only interesting thing in their miserable lives and they’re just hoping for a few moments of relief, if only you’d share yourself with them just a little.
Not only should you talk to them continually to interrupt their reading but if they’re so absorbed in the book that they don’t hear you at first you should get extremely offended and pout because you’re being ignored. This should be obvious.
Follow with statements like : You don’t love me anymore. 
You never talk to me. You’re shutting me out.
fortunately, I divorced that one. Present Mr. J understands that I get absorbed because he’s a sweetie.
But…but…then they’d have to READ the card! :eek:
Pho King got the title: It’s A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson. If you’d like to know what well-adapted women can do, I’m on page 258. 
cite. And these people are allowed to vote and breed?
When I was in high school, I used to house-sit quite a bit, as most people assume that a bookworm doesn’t know how to party and is thus more responsible than your average teen :dubious: .
One of the houses I watched was that of a local pharmacist, his college-educated artist wife, and their two honor-student sons. One night I finished my book and decided to go rummaging through their bookcases for new material. No bookcases. ooookay, let’s just go check the boys’ rooms. No books. Some magazines 
, but no books. Master bedroom? Nada. Kitchen? One cookbook and an old bible. Garage? A pharmacy text.
I put the pharmacy book with the cookbook beside me on the couch and shivered. It was the creepiest house I ever watched, and that included the double-wide trailer 20 miles out of town.
Please let me know what year will be convenient for me to come and stay with you.
Funny you should mention that. I do end up reading quite a bit in Latin, and most of it is poetry. I have to at least mutter it out loud to get its full sense. Sometimes the subway in the morning is not really the best place to do it.
I don’t even know whether or not I am “doing it right,” but damn, former roommates and random people have told me that it is pretty creepy.
It’s okay. Here’s a hug.
I know what you mean though. When I find myself in that situation, I’m at first confused (maybe I just didn’t SEE the library or bookcase?) so I look again in the obvious places, as if books will magically appear where none were before.
Then, as it becomes obvious that not even an old reader’s digest exists, yeah it’s weird and creepy.