Not only have I sworn off my nasty voodoo-doll habit as of yesterday (now that I've offed my arch-nemesis), but I've apparently gone off stealing as well. Who'd a thunk it?
Check out what I passed up in the hallway of the Marriott Courtyard, Ventura.
You guessed it, a cartload of Gideon Bibles!
You long-time readers know about my penchant for lifting The Good Book. And here there were three (3/trzy/drie/trois/drei/три) Bibles on the maid's cart!
How did I let them all get away?
- A righteous spirit?
- A moment of absentmindedness?
No, my friends, they were all in English, and I'm afraid I'm full up on English language Bibles these days. Had they been in Zulu or Korean or Portuguese or Latin, there'd be no doubt that my returning checked baggage would have been at least 12 ounces heavier, plus or minus a gramme or two.
As it is, I can't be bothered with Bibles in my native tongue. I crave the eccentric, the unusual, the odd. Mr D is planning a trip to Sweden in the fall, so perhaps I'll prevail upon him. Although he's mighty forgetful, and he also hates the idea of having to ship more books when we next move house, so I'm probably out of luck there.
I tried to get Rob, my friend in Moscow, to steal me a Russian Bible, but his upright Episcopal schoolboy upbringing got the better of him, and he couldn't bring himself to do it. I imagined him sitting there alone in the hotel room, opening the drawer, and shutting it. Opening it. Shutting it. Opening. No, shutting. Shutting it. Keeping it shut. At least he was thinking of me, just a little... even if only in a kind of Bible-stealing way. I'll take whatever I can get, attention-wise.
Or perhaps he was worried that the KGB would track him down at a later date? Whatever. Clearly, it's all down to me, this Bible stealing business, at the end of the day.
And come to think of it, I haven't hit up Miss T for a Scottish Bible either. What do they speak there? Besides Dour?
No, silly, it's Gaelic. Possibly a Gaelic Bible might be even more of a downer than the usual. And drat it all, I didn't even think of nicking a Welsh Bible whilst at the Hay-on-Wye Book Festival.
Obviously I need to hone my criminal skills. Opportunity lost, but there you go.