Oxford Bookstore

Crying when reading Bridge to Terabithia for the first time in an old and massively popular Oxford book store and pausing to savor my uninhibited emotional response while clutching the unpaid for book only to be disrupted by a large group of middle aged Chinese men grabbing books from the Classics section and laughing at the photos of the writers and prices on the backs and me being bothered by their foreign tourist-ness until I realize the hypocrisy of an American in England thinking he is neither of those things might be something I would make a Facebook status on.


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