The library. A grand building filled with millions of books that are available to anyone. A place where the intellectuals and the homeless gather to read, sleep, and absorb the wealth of knowledge that is at their disposal. But as I've learned today, one thing that cannot be learned at a library is decorum.
Yesterday I was at the library doing research for my final English paper, on people who lead double lives. The concept came to me after my class watched the movie "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" and I saw Oprah do a segment on the very same topic. According to the layout Mr. Julian gave us, we were to have several online resources as well as several written ones. Which explained my presence at the library. Otherwise, I would have been at home watching reruns of Full House.
After taking pages of notes and quotes on people who lead double lives, I picked up my resources and placed them on the cart near the Information Desk. It was then, that this lady, who was sportin a rainbow tie-dye dress and birkenstocks along with a spiky mullet and a bajillion bangles, came up to me.
LIBRARIAN: Excuse me. What do you think you're doing?
I looked around, trying to find the poor soul that this librarian was ready to attack. But, alas, I saw no one.
ME: Me?
LIBRARIAN: Yes, you!
ME: Oh. Yeah?
LIBRARIAN: I asked you what you were doing.
ME: Oh...uh...Putting the books away?
LIBRARIAN: No! You are not putting the books away! Instead you are putting them on my cart!
ME: Ok.
Obviously, she was going somewhere with this, but I was clueless as to where. I mean, how can you take someone seriously when they're dressed like a kalidescope?
LIBRARIAN: You took those books off the shelves and you need to put them back where they belong.
ME: Why?
LIBRARIAN: Do you think it is my job to put away your books?
ME: Um...
LIBRARIAN: I need you to pick up your books and put them back where you found them.
ME: Are you kidding me?
LIBRARIAN: No, I am not kidding you.
ME: Well, I dont know how to do that. Those books have numbers and stuff.
LIBRARIAN: Pick up your books and I will show you where to put them.
I dont know what it was about this libararian, but she scared the hell out of me. Maybe it was her bushy eyebrows. Maybe it was that weird freckle-mole she had near her left eye. Or maybe it was the small sweat moustache that she was beginning to form on her upper lip (of course, upon closer inspection, it wasn't a moustache of sweat...it was just a moustache). All, I know was that it was something. And that something made me pick the books off the cart and follow the bitchy librarian.
I couldnt believe I was actually gonna put the books back where they belonged. Who was this libararian, to think she had the power to make me listen to her? Where was my courage? Where was my confidence? Where were my witty comebacks that I learned from watching countless episodes of The Gilmore Girls?
This librarian needed to be put in her place, but for some reason, my mouth was dry and I couldnt think of a thing to say. That's when I did it. I threw the books in the air, toward her direction, turned, and ran down the stairs to the first floor of the library. I didnt even look back, as I rushed out the sliding doors. The last thing I remember hearing was those books making a "THUMP" sound, and it didnt sound like they hit the floor or the shelves. So possibly, I may have hit the old bag. But then again, she deserved it, right?
Yesterday I was at the library doing research for my final English paper, on people who lead double lives. The concept came to me after my class watched the movie "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" and I saw Oprah do a segment on the very same topic. According to the layout Mr. Julian gave us, we were to have several online resources as well as several written ones. Which explained my presence at the library. Otherwise, I would have been at home watching reruns of Full House.
After taking pages of notes and quotes on people who lead double lives, I picked up my resources and placed them on the cart near the Information Desk. It was then, that this lady, who was sportin a rainbow tie-dye dress and birkenstocks along with a spiky mullet and a bajillion bangles, came up to me.
LIBRARIAN: Excuse me. What do you think you're doing?
I looked around, trying to find the poor soul that this librarian was ready to attack. But, alas, I saw no one.
ME: Me?
LIBRARIAN: Yes, you!
ME: Oh. Yeah?
LIBRARIAN: I asked you what you were doing.
ME: Oh...uh...Putting the books away?
LIBRARIAN: No! You are not putting the books away! Instead you are putting them on my cart!
ME: Ok.
Obviously, she was going somewhere with this, but I was clueless as to where. I mean, how can you take someone seriously when they're dressed like a kalidescope?
LIBRARIAN: You took those books off the shelves and you need to put them back where they belong.
ME: Why?
LIBRARIAN: Do you think it is my job to put away your books?
ME: Um...
LIBRARIAN: I need you to pick up your books and put them back where you found them.
ME: Are you kidding me?
LIBRARIAN: No, I am not kidding you.
ME: Well, I dont know how to do that. Those books have numbers and stuff.
LIBRARIAN: Pick up your books and I will show you where to put them.
I dont know what it was about this libararian, but she scared the hell out of me. Maybe it was her bushy eyebrows. Maybe it was that weird freckle-mole she had near her left eye. Or maybe it was the small sweat moustache that she was beginning to form on her upper lip (of course, upon closer inspection, it wasn't a moustache of sweat...it was just a moustache). All, I know was that it was something. And that something made me pick the books off the cart and follow the bitchy librarian.
I couldnt believe I was actually gonna put the books back where they belonged. Who was this libararian, to think she had the power to make me listen to her? Where was my courage? Where was my confidence? Where were my witty comebacks that I learned from watching countless episodes of The Gilmore Girls?
This librarian needed to be put in her place, but for some reason, my mouth was dry and I couldnt think of a thing to say. That's when I did it. I threw the books in the air, toward her direction, turned, and ran down the stairs to the first floor of the library. I didnt even look back, as I rushed out the sliding doors. The last thing I remember hearing was those books making a "THUMP" sound, and it didnt sound like they hit the floor or the shelves. So possibly, I may have hit the old bag. But then again, she deserved it, right?
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