Self Help

The ride home on the bus tonight seemed particularly accentuated with people studying self-help books. And much like a dog tends to look like it's master (or vice versa) the self-help books tended to reflect their reader. 

The first person I noticed was a pallid and frail looking woman crouched over her book: 

Your Guide to Vitamins

I moseyed down the aisle and grabbed a seat next to a nerdy looking boy with wire framed gasses and a khaki polo neatly tucked into a pair of khaki pants. His book of choice:

Sex, Love, and Courage (The two chapters I noted him flipping through were Cougars and Office Romances.)

As I was sitting and staring at my seat-mates book, an overweight woman arrived at her stop. Low and behold, as she arose and passed by me, the smell of pizza.. or chicken... or chicken on a pizza... or chicken covered in pizza sauce... wafted towards me from a brown paper bag she was carrying. And what else was in her hands but a copy of:

When Love Equals Food

So many problems, and so many solutions.

I wonder what my blatantly stereotypical self-help book would be... Probably:

So You Want To Be a Hipster?

Chapter 1: Hair- Beards for Boys, Bangs for Girls

Chapter 2: American Apparel is Your Friend

Etcetra Etcetra...