"No, you don't," he set his book down on the arm of the sofa to see her standing there in the livingroom doorway. "Why do you always have to assume that you know what other people are thinking? Do you think you're some kind of mind reader or something?"
"I knew you were going to say that," she said with a serious look and slight smile.
"Ha, ha, very funny. You should do stand-up while you're at it." He was pissed off at her and she was making like this was all some big joke. He returned to reading his book. His goddamn book. In 'The Catcher In The Rye', the main character says "goddamm" in his thoughts a lot. The word has changed only slightly since the book was written in the 1940s. Now it's 'goddamn.'
"Maybe I should," she replied.
"What? Maybe you should what?" He wasn't paying attention to her anymore.
"Maybe I should do stand-up. Being a mind reader, I would know whether or not people would laugh at what joke I would do next. But then again, there would be a lot of people to mind read at the same time, so I guess it would be kind of difficult."
He said nothing. He was reading. And he wanted a coffee. Why couldn't she shut the hell up so that he could read the fucking book? Or mind-read this and get him a goddamn coffee.
She stood there waiting for him to respond. Maybe fake a laugh or something. When he didn't, she finished what she was saying. "No, you're probably right. I wouldn't be any good at goddamn stand-up."
She surprised him like that sometimes, but by the time he had looked up she had left the doorway. He could hear her in the kitchen. She was pouring water into the coffeemaker.
//adp 18 March 2004//This little piece of prose was inspired by all of the times I was accused of mind-reading... and the book that I'm reading at the moment - 'The Catcher In The Rye' by J.D. Salinger.