(i know, i know, you want an italian recap. you’re going to have to wait a little longer as i struggle with some serious jetlag. and, to refresh your memory about why i’m talking with strangers, here’s the deal.)
a couple of weeks ago, i was back in wonderland, aka porter square books. i had time to browse and oh boy was it fun to sift through the titles and skim through the jackets with nothing more important on the agenda than picking new books for my TBR list. they didn’t have the book i originally came in to buy (DIE FOR ME by amy plum), so i picked up HOLD ME CLOSER, NECROMANCER by lish mcbride mainly because of this review, but also because i find it impossible to walk out of a bookstore with empty hands.
“you’re all set?” the man asked.
“yes, this, and could you order a book for me?”
“sure thing. what’s the title?”
“DIE FOR ME by amy plum.”
he types some stuff into the computer. “i don’t see it. you said it was called DIAPER ME?”
me, mentally pointing to the name of my blog, can’t decide whether to make a joke or repeat myself. i settle for the latter, but wonder if he’ll even be able to understand me due to my barely contained laughter.
“oh,” he says, giving into his own chuckles, “i thought it was some kind of parenting book.”
Abigail Mumford 
Diaper Me? LOL! Sounds kind of kinky. ;)
it’s bizarre any way you look at it and i really wonder whether he thought i was buying the book for myself or for someone else. oh, the life of a bookseller.
If you really wanted to creep him out, you should have said, “Oh yes, Die for Me IS kind of a parenting book.” :)
uh, you’re creepy.