At work the other day I answered a phone call. It went a little something like, no, it went exactly like this:

Me: Library, how may I help you?

Lady: I was trying to find my grandson’s social security card and all I can find are the copies I made of it. I cannot find the original.

Me: Do you need the social security’s office number?

Lady: No, I remembered that the last time I saw the original was when I was making copies of it on the copy machine at the library. I was wondering if you had found the original at the copier.

Me: Oh! Were you here this morning?

Lady: No, it was three…. three and a half years ago.

Me: …. (inside my head I’m thinking, “Don’t laugh. Don’t Laugh. Be a pro. Don’t laugh.”)

Me: Um, let me…. check with the Lost and Found Department. Please hold.

I place the call on hold and slit my throat with a glue stick, unsure if I’m horrified that this lady really believes there’s a chance in hell we would’ve kept something like that for over three years in hope that one day we would receive such a call and the mystery of the forgotten social security card could at last be put to rest, or if I’m just flat out impressed by her optimism and ashamed of my own bad attitude.

Coworker: Did you just refer to the lost and found basket as a department?

Me: Yes.

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