On the street today, everybody is reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I thought I would go out on the street and see how far everyone was in the book.

WHERE: NE 13^th and NE Alberta st.
WHO: Robert, bicyclist

As I was biking up Alberta to attend my twice-daily Bikram yoga class I was passed by Robert, who was reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on his bicycle. I called out to him, “How far are you?” He didn’t respond, just continued reading and biking until he careened into oncoming traffic and was killed. I picked up his blood-stained copy of the book and saw he was, tragically, only on page 43.

WHERE: Rose City Oral Surgery Center
WHO: Dr. Sampson, Oral-maxillo surgeon

I had some minor oral surgery done today, which required general anesthetics. As I was going under, the last thing I saw was Dr. Sampson’s face peeking over his copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. “How far are you?” I tried to mumble out of my drug-induced haze. He didn’t respond, just continued reading and picked up a large needle and stabbed me in the eye. When I awoke, his copy was lying on my swollen face and I saw that he was, amazingly, on page 326. Who says doctors are lazy?

WHERE: East Burnside
WHO: Vlad, police officer

Vlad was reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows while chasing a perp down East Burnside. “How far are you?” I asked him as he leapt on the man. He didn’t say anything, just kept reading, pausing every so often to beat the dude in the head with the giant book. I’m not sure what page he was on.

WHERE: East Burnside
WHO: Matt, suspected burglar

Matt was reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows while being beaten by Vlad with Harry and the Deathly Hallows. “What page are you on?” I asked. He didn’t say anything, just kept reading and being beaten. Eventually he dropped the book. I thought that he might be passing out from pain, but he had actually just finished the book!

WHERE: Pioneer Square, downtown
WHO: Anna, homeless person

Anna was the one person I didn’t see reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. She was bundled up in the doorway of a closed convenience store asking for change. “Why aren’t you reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows?” I asked. “I’m very, very poor,” she said. “I can’t afford anything to eat, my medication has just run out and I can’t feel the bottoms of my feet.” I looked at her with pity. Then I noticed she was sitting on a copy Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, the sixth book in the best-selling series. She said someone had thrown it at her when she asked for a dollar. “How far are you?” I asked, pointing to the book. “I’m illiterate,” she said. “I dropped out of high school when I was 16 and had a baby. But my boyfriend was an alcoholic, and we had to give my baby away. My boyfriend left me three years ago, but my family won’t have anything to do with me.  And have you ever tried getting a job after sleeping on the street for three months?” That’s when I realized I was wasting my time: She wasn’t anywhere in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and she never would be.