So I had a library fine on my account, 60 cents, for four days late fee on a book that I forgot to return last week. No biggie, really, except that I have about 15 books that are due to return tomorrow unless I renew them online.
And our library, as yet, doesn’t let us pay fines online.
So, at 8pm, I made a quick trip downtown to our renovated Central Library. It’s usually pretty nice, with a (relative) abundance of books compared to the other branch libraries in town. Hubs came with me to see the place.
Of course, as we walked in the door, hubs realized he’d left his wallet at home. And I had no cash on me . . . .
Luckily, there were still two quarters in the library bag, and between us we scraped up ten cents in pennies to pay the rest of the fine. So, we walked in . . ..
And the central air conditioning was out. Ugh, it was like a sauna in there. No wonder the librarian who took my sixty cents was such a jerk. Or maybe he’s just a jerk– dunno, first time I’ve ever seen him. Anyway, I paid my fine, which freed me to browse the new books section.
Oh man, it’s like turning a pill-addict loose after-hours in the Walgreens.
I found Pope Benedict’s Infancy Narratives, which I’ve been waiting for for ages. And a book about art forgery. And one about life in the fall of czarist Russia. And one about dragons. And a book about ducks and geese. And a new Ruth Rendell book. And a thriller. And something about a librarian with Tourettes.
All lovely new books with the infinite promise that unread new books hold. Now, I shall be toddling off to read, probably for much longer than is good for me.