Of Love and Late Fees
At the beginning I thought that people at the local branch of the library were kind of mean, cold and distant. Having to deal with stupid customers all day asking for non existent books and authors that no one has ever heard of, must be frustrating; to have to look for a book for weeks after some red haired guy filed it in the wrong cabinet just for the sake of it, would certainly send the most balanced librarian into an overdose of happy pills. And on top of it all to have to answer questions and hold books and conduct little researches in their computers and at the same time try to understand the crazy accent of those damn foreigners that come to America to still jobs is more than any God fearing librarian could've taken back in those early spring days.
I understand them and I can feel their cynicism and lack of motivation. That's why I was so puzzle when suddenly they started smiling at me and greeting me like if I was a respectable member of the society. I was confused when they asked me how my last book had been and if I'd enjoyed. My brain couldn't digest the fact that these people that see hundreds of souls every day would remember me, a cool foreigner that shows up at the front desk once every few weeks and who barely can express himself in English.
As I felt loved by these group of strangers I started visiting the library more often and checking out more books than I could read. And even more so I started actually reading those books 'cause maybe one day one of them could ask me about the book and the character in there and I better come up with a clever answer before they find out that I don't really read all the shit that I check out. I thought that finally someone was starting to see past my not very handsome self and deep into my sweet and tender soul. Shit! my friends, for few weeks I thought that I'd finally found the American Dream and the so called Southern charm that had been so shy to me. I remembered for a moment those girls who had made mashed potato out of my poor heart as compared to these new people that were smiling and actually liking me: You love me!, you really love me! I felt awesome in those days my dear readers.
Felt awesome until it all started to fade away. As I began stopping at the library more often than before my late fees started to drop like flies after being sprayed with RAID for cockroaches. Those big bucks that I used to pay in late fees for every single book that I checked out suddenly disappear and with it a big chunk of the revenues that the library was so accustomed to receive and spend to right and left. Their discretionary income came tumbling down and with it their smiles and greetings. "I liked him better when he pay those late fees" -people would mumble on my back. If before I never had to stand in line because once they'd see me ready to check out a stack of books they'll open a register just for me, now the computers wouldn't even recognize my library card.
They don't take debit nor credit cards at the library, only cash, and as I never carry cash with me they were able to charge interests on my late fees, and late fees on my late fees. During those days I saw new computers in every corner, people wearing clothes that smelled like new and some of them would have problem walking or standing for long periods of time because their new shoes were still untame. Jewelry hung from every single piece of their bodies and even one of the girls told me with a wink about her new tattoo that it was going to be huge and would cover 57% of her body.
Today that tattoo is just a shadow of what it was suppose to be and she's forced to wear long sleeves in order to cover the basic lines of a once dreamed masterpiece. All those new clothes I bet you were returned to the store and all the jewelry purchased new and at at full price rests on a safe box in the nearest pawn shop, never to be redeemed again.
But yesterday I checked out my last set of books that will send my reading through the roof, and would make my stupid reading goal for this year look as miserable as the little disclaimer at the bottom of this very same pages.
And as for the people in the library I'd say: hold on to your shit. . . more fees may be coming your way!
I understand them and I can feel their cynicism and lack of motivation. That's why I was so puzzle when suddenly they started smiling at me and greeting me like if I was a respectable member of the society. I was confused when they asked me how my last book had been and if I'd enjoyed. My brain couldn't digest the fact that these people that see hundreds of souls every day would remember me, a cool foreigner that shows up at the front desk once every few weeks and who barely can express himself in English.As I felt loved by these group of strangers I started visiting the library more often and checking out more books than I could read. And even more so I started actually reading those books 'cause maybe one day one of them could ask me about the book and the character in there and I better come up with a clever answer before they find out that I don't really read all the shit that I check out. I thought that finally someone was starting to see past my not very handsome self and deep into my sweet and tender soul. Shit! my friends, for few weeks I thought that I'd finally found the American Dream and the so called Southern charm that had been so shy to me. I remembered for a moment those girls who had made mashed potato out of my poor heart as compared to these new people that were smiling and actually liking me: You love me!, you really love me! I felt awesome in those days my dear readers.
Felt awesome until it all started to fade away. As I began stopping at the library more often than before my late fees started to drop like flies after being sprayed with RAID for cockroaches. Those big bucks that I used to pay in late fees for every single book that I checked out suddenly disappear and with it a big chunk of the revenues that the library was so accustomed to receive and spend to right and left. Their discretionary income came tumbling down and with it their smiles and greetings. "I liked him better when he pay those late fees" -people would mumble on my back. If before I never had to stand in line because once they'd see me ready to check out a stack of books they'll open a register just for me, now the computers wouldn't even recognize my library card.
They don't take debit nor credit cards at the library, only cash, and as I never carry cash with me they were able to charge interests on my late fees, and late fees on my late fees. During those days I saw new computers in every corner, people wearing clothes that smelled like new and some of them would have problem walking or standing for long periods of time because their new shoes were still untame. Jewelry hung from every single piece of their bodies and even one of the girls told me with a wink about her new tattoo that it was going to be huge and would cover 57% of her body.
Today that tattoo is just a shadow of what it was suppose to be and she's forced to wear long sleeves in order to cover the basic lines of a once dreamed masterpiece. All those new clothes I bet you were returned to the store and all the jewelry purchased new and at at full price rests on a safe box in the nearest pawn shop, never to be redeemed again.
But yesterday I checked out my last set of books that will send my reading through the roof, and would make my stupid reading goal for this year look as miserable as the little disclaimer at the bottom of this very same pages.
And as for the people in the library I'd say: hold on to your shit. . . more fees may be coming your way!
Jean-Francois was drunk at 8:18 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home