Overheard at the Counter?

Was it Lucky Moran who was talking about the book he'd just read? Or was it Steppenwolf who was talking about the book the Barista had just read? Or Payne? Or Verble? Or even John Canada, who had so many books on his reading list, dating back decades, that he never would be able to get around to reading anything anybody ever suggested to him?

Were they even sitting at the counter? Would you, if you had the chance, go down to the Zen and Tao Acoustic Cafe to listen to Ani DiFranco play every Thursday night, the Waifs all weekend on the rare weekend they made it to town, and even Warren Zevon, who still, even after death, still manages to make it by on the occasional Monday evening?

Was the book they were reading even a novel? Or was it just a series of questions, like those I am asking you now? Was it both a series of questions AND a novel? What, these days, even IS a novel? Can we really describe it? Does it matter? Do we care? If we do, then why? Or conversely, why not?

Was it Payne or was it the Barista who noted that the one point at which it seemed as though there might be a plot was the point at which the author mentioned a girl who asked an unusual question, and then pages later posed the question as to whether you might be seduced by a girl who asked such a question? Was that intentional or was it a slip? Was the author inserting an indescretion from his near past of which he may or may not have been somewhat proud?

And you would agree, as I would agree, that Lucky Moran and Steppenwolf both, in unison, concurred that the apex of the novel, which lay toward the end, and was well worth the wait, was the expansive, extensive series of questions that lasted for two and a half pages and centered around every possible reaction that you might have should Jimi Hendrix suddenly show up and begin to play guitar?

Also, wouldn't you no longer be surprised, especially having read the Barista's comments regarding The Shining, that she was the one who noted that the author told much more of himself through his questions than he obsfucated? Would you now nod your head in understanding when she pointed out that the very choice of questions revealed a white American male most likely in his mid to late fifties, simply by noting that his questions focused on what was important to that age group, that ethnicity, that gender, and even mentioned rather nostalgically certain cultural icons that were icons only in the fourth preceding decade?

Could you even follow that last question? Would you be surprised if I told you I myself don't even want to re-read it, as it scares me so?

Will you go find that book now? Have I even told you the title? Is it The Interrogative Mood, a Novel?