I’m in class one day and everyone is talking about a book that everyone has read, “The Great Gatsby.” Some people groan because they’re tired of the book, and others raise their eyebrows, open their mouths and share how much they love that “timeless” story. Someone even says, “since everyone’s read it, there aren’t any spoilers. So, what did you think of the death of…”

At this point, I squeeze my eyes shut (because everyone knows that you can’t hear when you squeeze your eyes shut) because I don’t want it spoiled.

I have a confession to make: I’ve never read it. I mean, I do intend to read the book one day.

I sheepishly raise my hand and announce that I haven’t read the book. I am immediately the recipient of eye laser beams. I’m pretty sure if you’re reading this, and you’ve read “Gatsby,” you’re equally aghast.

Okay, so I’ve never read “Gatsby.” So what? Give me credit. At least I know there’s a movie and it stars Leonardo DiCaprio. That’s good enough, right? Come on. 

Here’s my point: sometimes, not everyone has seen or read something wildly popular. I’ve been guilty of shooting a few eye laser beams at people. When someone tells me they’ve never read “Harry Potter”… Pshew! Pshew! (good laser sound effects, I know.) You’ve never seen the “Princess Bride”? Zerp! (That was an electric shock.)

I understand what it feels like to be on the receiving end of “X-Men” styled brutality, but sometimes I can’t help but serve some mutant mind powers when deserved. One time, my friend told me that she never watched “Pride and Prejudice.” I took in a sharp breath, my mouth formed a perfectly jagged ‘O’ and my eyes got all red, like when Superman is about to laser beam someone. My voice took on a husky, crackled edge, as if I’d just woken up, and my palms faced the floor, fingertips up, because that’s how dramatic I had to be. I said, “How have you never seen that movie?” As if thinking my reaction was the funniest thing on the planet, she raised her bottom lip over the top and shrugged her shoulders, a breathless laugh escaped.

“I don’t know, I guess I was never interested,” she dared to tell me. 

Never. Interested.

“Well, you have to watch it,” I responded. “Like, now. No, you don’t have to go to work, you’re going to sit here and watch the movie. No, better yet, I’ll put on the five-hour mini-series, so you can have more details…”

She cut me off and moved back slowly, as if I were going to hold her hostage (which I totally was! But still.)

She told me she’d check it out some other time. I know she’ll never watch it, and I’ll have to accept it. Meanwhile, I finally bought a copy of “Gatsby.” I simply want to expand my literary knowledge. Also, I don’t want to get pshewed and zerped anymore. It’s starting to hurt!

For questions/comments about this story, email news@thewhitonline.com or tweet @TheWhitOnline.