What does your bookshelf say about you?

“I have a theory that a bookshelf tells a woman all she needs to know about a man?”

“OK that's an interesting theory I've never heard a single person say ever. So try me.” 

“You want to know the theory in full or my analysis of your bookshelf?” 

“Why don't I humour you and say both.”

“Look if you're not interested just say.” 

“OK I'm really not interested.”

“Prick.”

“Wow and did you get that conclusion just from looking at my bookcase? I'm guessing having a bookcase pisses on your theory about what's on a man's bookshelf.”

“No no you proved my point. See some men have a shelf of toys - the ones that refuse to grow up. Some have trophies. They might as well sit beneath a neon light sign with the words it's all about me.”

“Well as we've established I have a bookcase upon which I will hasten to add sit actual books. Not just books, but books that I've read.”

“Oh well done you, no free hand job to say well done though.”

“Bit rude.”

“You'll live. So what do your choice of books say about you?”

“Well…”

“That was a rhetorical question. Do you shut up, there's a good boy. Let's look at the biographies and autobiographies; AA Gill, Stuart Ongar, Adam Ant, Kurt Cobain, Paul Merson, Tony Adams, Oliver Reed… I could go on.” 

“What's your point?”

“My point is they're a red flag to any woman that steps into this room and they should run a mile.” 

“Oh well don't sugar coat it, do say what you feel, whilst we're still friends at least. Anything else?”

“Of course darling I'm just getting warmed up. We've a row of books on human behaviour. On a subconscious level you admit you're deeply flawed and want to try to find a solution but would rather seek solace in a book from a professional than seek one to one assistance from one. In the books you've underlined large passages which you probably regurgitate to make yourself sound clever and empathetic to anyone whose behaviour mirrors your own. You also want to be seen to be smart for anyone glancing through.” 

“So another red flag?”

“Well yes quite but being empathetic isn't a bad thing. Probably means you'll try fix others having given up on trying to fix yourself.” 

“You remember the part at the start when I said I wasn't interested.”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Well erm…”

“Do shut up and listen.” 

“I don't suppose I have a choice?”

“You might learn something valuable you haven't found out in amongst the hundreds of thousands of words. You've a line of Penguin classics all lines up in numerical order. So you collect them or you started and then like a lot of things in your life you just gave up on it. All your books are perfectly aligned to the edge of each shelf. Then you have them arranged in size order and wherever possible in colour blocks too. Symmetry and alignment both stemming from a need to have some element of control you don't feel in the rest of your life. Classic traits of someone who has obsessive compulsive disorder. I bet if I was to push one in ever so slightly or move a couple around you'd instantly notice and feel an overwhelming urge to correct the perceived problem seed I'd just planted somewhere in your brain. Being a bookcase there are books behind. Those don't however fit in with sizes of colour codes which isn't why they don't sit on the front rows but you had a sense of loss as a child or a young adult and you can't bear to part with things. They have a sentimental value or a perceived sense of future purpose. Then there's your penchant for notebooks. Escapism. That place where you can express your thoughts through writing which you won't share because you don't want to be judged. Pieces of art where you quell the mechanics of your mind for an hour or two before they crank back into life. Would you like me to carry on?”

“Jesus you mean you've not finished crucifying my character. Is crucifying the right word? Maybe assassinating”

“Well your bookshelf…sorry, your bookcase does rather prove one's theory.” 

“Oh well that's good. Jolly hockey sticks and all that. When you write the book maybe you'll give me a signed copy and I'll add it to one of the shelves. Actually no, why not dedicate the forward to me. I'm sure there's a shelf that you'll say demonstrates I'm narcissistic.”

“Oh no, quite the opposite. Deeply, deeply flawed and broken but not narcissistic.”

“Oh well that's OK then. Phew what a sigh or relief. I was getting worried for a while.”