Theft by Finding
- David Sedaris
- My last highlight
- Number of highlights
Every man on the street was old and dirty and looked like he was on his way to an adult bookstore.
Other people’s pain is uninteresting. My own, though, is spellbinding.
Today the teacher told us that a ripe Camembert should have the same consistency as a human eyebrow. It was just a little something she threw in.
I called Dad last night and he said, “If you’re riding a bike I’m hoping it has a big, wide seat, otherwise you’ll get testicular cancer like that Lance Armstrong.” I said I wouldn’t be riding a hundred miles a day for the next twenty years, and he told me it didn’t matter.
It’s scary, but when riding my bike I tend to think of all the people who are too lazy to exercise. I’ve become the exact sort of person I hate. The least amount of effort makes me self-righteous and I decide that everyone else should suffer just as I do. I’d probably be a monster if I ever quit smoking.
Our waitress acted as though we’d singled her out for some terrible punishment, but then we noticed that she treated everyone the same way.
A deliveryman brought the mattress at five thirty and the two of us spent the evening looking forward to bedtime. Hugh turned in at midnight and had a great night’s sleep. I went to bed at one and lay awake for hours, feeling as though I were stretched out on a length of pavement. The mattress is too hard for my taste and I woke up with a sore jaw, having dreamed I’d been hit by a car.
The one thing they excel at here is stoking the furnace. It’s below zero outdoors, while inside our rooms we could roast chickens by leaving them on the nightstand.