Feeling Blonde

Yesterday, before my trek home, I stopped by the library. Now let me preface this story by saying that in NYC, if you reserve a library book, the magical library elves shelve it next to the front desk based on the final four digits of your library card. So I went to the shelves, took out my keys (as I have a library card attached to my keys), and went looking for my books.

When I got to where my library books were supposed to be, there was...nothing. A gaping hole between the number before and the one about 50 after me. Surely the magical library elves didn't get it wrong, I thought to myself. Damn them! They should go back to making shoes for that man in that story! I could use some beautiful shoes (but that is another story entirely).

Nevertheless, I scanned and scoured the shelves, sure that I was making some critical error, and that the book was really and truly there. I stood watching, trying to ESP the book out of it's position slightly so I would notice it. Finally, the ever so helpful librarian lady asks me if I need any assistance.

Why yes, I said. I have requested a book and it is not here...I received the email and everything. The email fairy told me that the book would be here until June 13th (Mary Kate and Ashley's birthday), but it's only the 11th and it is already gone. It's like it disappeared.

The librarian gave me that patronizing smile of hers and said, we sort the library books by the last four digits of your library card. I was momentarily taken aback...was she in cahoots with the elves? Were they really not elves at all, but hobbit-like faux humans intent on educating the masses? And why was she telling me this when she could clearly see that I was looking at my library card?

I refrained from the first two questions, but I told her that I already knew the way books were sorted. However, I was looking at my library card, and I still could not find the book. Could she be of some assistance?

It turns out she could. She looks at me and says, that's not your library card.

I roll my eyes. How could she possibly be so stu-...oh. She's right. It's not my library card. It's my gym membership card.

Trying to recover my wits, I say, sorry, it's Friday.

She gives me the patronizing smile again, but says nothing.

I realize that it's only Thursday. Damn. Why don't the voices in my head ever say anything when I need them to?

Laughing it off, I say, it just goes to show how often I use my gym membership. She laughs too, but I feel like she is laughing at me. I wonder if it's against the law to smack a hobbit upside the head for pissing you off. Are there laws against assaulting fictional characters? Probably not.

She checks out my book, and I exit the library, feeling impossibly small and infinitely stupider than when I arrived.

The end

***Disclaimer: No animals, hobbits, elves or librarians were harmed in the making of this blog.