I was in an airport bookstore, desperately looking for something to read, when a woman walked up beside me and starting looking at the magazines. She was twentyish, with tight jeans, and it only took her a moment to find her favorite title.

“Dang it,” she said, “I already read it – when I was getting my nails done.”

She flitted over to a neighboring rack, scanning it. Her face had an anxious look. She glanced back toward her boyfriend, who walked over. “Whatever you want to do,” he said, glumly.

She walked out quickly without buying anything. Apparently if she can’t find her favorite – the one she reads while her nails are done – she’ll read nothing else. Some readers are more discriminating than others.