I have the same prejudice. If I don’t see any books when I go to a person’s house, I know that I’m in for a very tedious evening. (Almost as bad is when the only books are matching sets. Nine times out of ten, if you open one of them, it makes that virgin crackle of a never-read book.)
The prejudice becomes out-and-out dislike when someone states “I don’t read,” in a tone of pride, as if it’s some sort of accomplishment.
I’ve met a few people who were actually hostile to reading. One was a man who came into a store in which I was working. He kept pointing to items and asking the price. He did this for so long that I finally said, “Sir, the prices are marked on the shelves right in front of the item.”
“I don’t read,” he said haughtily. “It’s stupid.”
“How do you manage?” I asked, dumfounded.
He shrugged. “There’s always someone around to read stuff to me.” He then proceeded to go on a rant which had the tone of something well-rehearsed, and was delivered in a manner which plainly revealed that he thought himself hysterically funny. It consisted of reasons why reading was a waste of time because everything worth knowing was in movie/TV format, along with his theories on why the country is such a “shithole.” Turns out the “eggheads” have been in charge too long. I think he was a bit offended that I wasn’t laughing.
Another was a friend-of-a-friend who used to come over to visit my room-mate. She was always rolling her eyes at the books lying around the apartment, and had once opined that she didn’t read because “I have stuff to do.” )Whereas I, plainly, did not. She pitied me a little, I think, imagining that I must be terribly unpopular to be left at home with nothing but a book.)
One evening, we ordered pizza from a place we’d never tried. The history of the building the pizzaria was located was written on the lid, and I started reading it. She actually batted the box from my hands and exploded, “Why do you have to *read *everything?” I never did figure that one out.
