The other day I was on my way home on the metro, the B line to be exact. I got on the train and made a b line to the first open space I spotted. Before sitting down, I noticed that my only seat mate, who was seated to the far left of the metro bench of sorts I'd chosen, was reading a book with a red cover. I took a seat and was about to break out a book of my own, when the glare of a screen coming from what had seemed to be the red book caught my eye. It was then that I'd noticed that this was not, in fact, your run of the mill book--it was a do-it-yourself decoy for her tablet holder!
I was intrigued and dying to have a conversation with this woman about what she was holding, which put me in an awkward and precarious situation. I had a decision to make. I could a) let the Texan in me run free and scoot right over next to her, look her square in the eye, and say, "I love that. Tell me everything." Or, b) let the Roman resident win over and listen to reason, which was saying, "You don't know this woman. She does not want to talk to you. You don't know this woman. She does not want to talk to you."
Well, I've lived in Texas longer than I've lived in Rome. The Texan won out. Driven by a force stronger than me (which was really just the desire to want to post this on the schoolhouse blog), I mustered up the courage to strike up a conversation. I stood up, walked exactly four steps and pivoted, grabbed the handrail next to her seat, and began professing my love for this book decoy idea in Italian.
She listened to the first two or three sentences I got out, then politely said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak that much Italian."
"Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'm in love with whatever that is you've got there. Did you make that?!"
She laughed and explained that her boyfriend had made it for her (clever guy!) because she was always fumbling around for her tablet in her bag, which is always full of a lot of things. "Oh," I interjected, "I thought maybe it was a decoy for potential thieves." She shook her head, "Nah. I just could never find it easily, and have you seen how much the covers for these things cost?! Too much! I wasn't about to pay that." I agreed the covers are completely overpriced, and gushed some more about the ingenuity of using a book as a protective cover, then I casually said, "I'd really love to get a picture of it...for our school blog." She smiled and said, "Sure, but you'll have to hurry--my stop is coming up." I snapped this pic:
then I handed her a business card and told her in the coming days I'd be posting a blog entry about it. She added that the book decoy isn't that difficult to make--the most important thing is to measure accurately before cutting out the pages and to use some type of glue-like adhesive, which she didn't know the name of, on the remaining portion of the pages to make sure they stay together.
We wished each other a good day and that was that. When the doors of the metro flew open I walked out satisfied that my inner Texan had prevailed and snapped a couple of pics of the diy project that beats the pants off of any store-bought tablet cover.
I was intrigued and dying to have a conversation with this woman about what she was holding, which put me in an awkward and precarious situation. I had a decision to make. I could a) let the Texan in me run free and scoot right over next to her, look her square in the eye, and say, "I love that. Tell me everything." Or, b) let the Roman resident win over and listen to reason, which was saying, "You don't know this woman. She does not want to talk to you. You don't know this woman. She does not want to talk to you."
Well, I've lived in Texas longer than I've lived in Rome. The Texan won out. Driven by a force stronger than me (which was really just the desire to want to post this on the schoolhouse blog), I mustered up the courage to strike up a conversation. I stood up, walked exactly four steps and pivoted, grabbed the handrail next to her seat, and began professing my love for this book decoy idea in Italian.
She listened to the first two or three sentences I got out, then politely said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak that much Italian."
"Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'm in love with whatever that is you've got there. Did you make that?!"
She laughed and explained that her boyfriend had made it for her (clever guy!) because she was always fumbling around for her tablet in her bag, which is always full of a lot of things. "Oh," I interjected, "I thought maybe it was a decoy for potential thieves." She shook her head, "Nah. I just could never find it easily, and have you seen how much the covers for these things cost?! Too much! I wasn't about to pay that." I agreed the covers are completely overpriced, and gushed some more about the ingenuity of using a book as a protective cover, then I casually said, "I'd really love to get a picture of it...for our school blog." She smiled and said, "Sure, but you'll have to hurry--my stop is coming up." I snapped this pic:
then I handed her a business card and told her in the coming days I'd be posting a blog entry about it. She added that the book decoy isn't that difficult to make--the most important thing is to measure accurately before cutting out the pages and to use some type of glue-like adhesive, which she didn't know the name of, on the remaining portion of the pages to make sure they stay together.
We wished each other a good day and that was that. When the doors of the metro flew open I walked out satisfied that my inner Texan had prevailed and snapped a couple of pics of the diy project that beats the pants off of any store-bought tablet cover.
Every thing comes pre-packaged and ready made these days, it's refreshing to see some people still using their hands and brains to make stuff. Useful stuff. May your inner-Texan always prevail. Great blog by the way! Keep it up.
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