Some of the members of my newly-formed book club haven’t even read the beer yet.
Yes, we meet at bookhalls or German bookgartens. Ah, the smell of old books.
From floor to ceiling, nearly every point is crammed with literature. Stacked on the floor and scattered on tables and chairs, there are piles of hardbacks, paperbacks, and even unfinished manuscripts. Tomes of encyclopedias and neat mounds of art books next to messy heaps of fiction and nonfiction books. Series, magazines and newspapers novels, and novellas.
We like meeting at libraries because we think every book club should have some ice cold books to read.
Last week, the Cuervo ladies were giving out salt, lime wedges, and free short stories.
Now after several meetings, emails, fundraising parties, IPO’s, election of officers, and deals cut with our wives (all of whom have girls night out), we have an actual beer to read.
Seriously.
Meetings are the second Wednesday of the month. Call before you come; we meet at a different library watering hole each time.
