MARTY couldn’t handle my job.

Category: dribblings

so this guy comes in today and he hands me a bag of books and says, “i’m here to return these.”

i say, “okay.” and reach for the bag.

he says, “i need the bag back.”

“sure.” and i hand him the bag.

he’s dressed in all black and has black hair. i’m not saying he was goth, but he was not unlike goth.

the books in the bag are all christian fiction books. upon seeing the books i know that they were checked out to an old lady who i usually refer to as The Bane of My Existence. she’s kind of like my new Crazy Margaret, only she’s not bonkers, she’s just annoying. she’s annoying because she acts helpless (“i can’t find any books; can you help me?”) and she only wants to read amish fiction.

by now she’s read ALL of the amish fiction we have. and STILL she’s all, “i can’t find any books. can you find some books for me?”

“i can, but they won’t be about the amish because you’ve read all of our amish books.”

“are you sure?”

“yes.”

“but you’re always so helpful. help me find some more books. i like books about the amish.”

“here are some christian fiction books. these are very popular.”

“but are they amish?”

“… no.”

“but i like amish books best.”

and so it goes. it’s usually a 20 minute ordeal. and when she leaves my head errupts into a flaming brain volcano. i don’t like this lady, and yet, i carry her books to her car. i do this because she has an injury, and i am polite. but i get no points at all for it. and when i get back inside the library i remind my coworkers and myself that, “God put that woman on this earth to test me.”

“what’s he testing you for?”

“i don’t know. i used to think it was about patience, but now i think it’s about how i shouldn’t enable amish fiction.”

“maybe you should go take a break.”

all that to say that here’s this guy retuning The Bane’s books.

Son of Bane says to me, “these aren’t mine. they’re my mom’s.”

“okay.” and i start checking them in.

“i wish she wouldn’t read that trash.”

“…”

“i told her all she reads is trash.”

“i wouldn’t call this-”

“i told her she should read The Count of Monte Cristo if she wants to read a romance book.”

“… right.”

“The Count of Monte Cristo is a great book.”

“yes. it is.”

“it’s better than that trash.”

“well, it is a classic.”

“yeah, but all she reads is that amish trash.”

“well, you know, she likes it. let her read what she likes.”

“i don’t like it.”

“…you don’t have to.”

“it’s nothing against the amish.”

“…”

“i’m catholic. i’m a good catholic.”

“oh.”

“but i don’t like all this amish love story trash.”

“yeah.”

“but i guess i don’t really fit in here. in this state.”

“wha- oh.”

“yeah, i don’t fit in at all.”

“well, i guess um, it is difficult to… fit in… sometimes.”

“yeah, it’s especially hard when I’M GAY.” (emphasis his.)

“ah. that… that is a toughie.”

“AND catholic.”

“right. how’s that working out?”

“i don’t know.”

“well, all of the books were returned. your mom’s card is clear.”

“oh. okay. thanks.”

“have a good evening.”

“okay.”

i’m not sure if he was trying to shock me or what. maybe he makes it a habit of coming out to strangers?

you know how some people say, “you can’t judge a person until you walk a mile in their shoes.”? well, you should work a shift at the circ. desk sometime.

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