People in movies and my dreams are always meeting in bookstores. They are always young and attractive and their eyes lock while they’re wandering the aisles aimlessly. 

This is all wrong.

To meet cute correctly, in a bookstore, you must WANT to be in a bookstore. And people who want that, who truly want that, are never perusing. They are groveling. They are kneeling before the literary gods. They are on their hands and knees because they are more interested in finding a copy of whatever it is they’re looking for than they are in looking romantic and wistful.

There are not enough of us. The books on the bottom shelves too often go untouched. When I fall in love in a bookstore, I will also be in the process of wrinkling my skirt. I will be half-cringing under the disdainful gaze of the non-crouchers. I will be hunkering down with something amazing and I will be startled to meet your eyes at knee-level.