Yesterday I went crazy.
Crazy at the library, that is.
No need to scoff. It’s possible to go crazy at the library and not get hauled off by the authorities. Sort of.
(And it should be duly noted that my local police department is housed in the same complex as the library I frequent.)
I needed to obtain some research for a project on which I plan to embark. I went to the section that housed the materials I needed and…whoosh…there it was.
So very much of what I needed. From so many different authors and sources. I was getting all hot and bothered to the point where the elderly gentleman standing next to me quickly grabbed The Complete Idiot’s Guide to something and ran towards the circulation desk at break-neck speed (no small task for him, I presume).
In fact there were so very very many options that I began to lose focus.
“Focus, Grasshoppper!” I loudly whispered to myself, ohm-style.
Grabbing books with overlapping contents I carefully navigated my way to check out while trying to see over the over-towering stack of books I was carrying.
And the beauty of it all?
IT WAS FREE. ALL OF IT!
It cost me not a single cent (well assuming I actually remember to return them on time.
But a few months back I was at a friends house and her nephew scoffed at the idea of the library.
“Think of it? How disgusting is it that some stranger may have taken the book you just checked out into the bathroom? Doesn’t everybody do their reading in the bathroom?. It’s disgusting. I would rather buy my books.”
This coming from a young man who not only just became a father but was also without gainful employment. A lethal combination in anybody’s estimation. (He plans on going to law school because he loves the law. Somebody ought to explain to him that loving the law and becoming a financially successful lawyer aren’t mutually exclusive.) I marveled at his naive snobbery.
I do, of course, agree that the notion of reading a book that some stranger might have brought into the bathroom is on the disgusting side and maybe I am not enough of the germaphobe that I ought to be more concerned about it.
Though I find the term germaphobe to be incredibly stupid. Like who the hell would be a germaphile? Then I began to wonder if that maybe does make me a germaphile, thereby making me a gross and disgusting person.
Oh the horror.
And does that mean that people , who are just behaving fiscally prudent, run the risk of being germ magnets -or perhaps worse – being labeled a germ chaser?
I decided to risk the associations as I know I’d be in good company judging by the heavy amounts of traffic at my local library branch.
“Tell me how you feel about the library in a few years when your son is a little older,” I said to the new young (very young…and naive…and…) as I know as well as anyone that parenthood has an awfully funny way of changing people’s fiscal attitudes.
Though I do wonder at what point does shopping at Barnes&Noble become more cost effective than the library as I have shelled out what I consider to be a signficant amount of money for late fees.
I guess when it starts to interfere with my Ice Cream truck spending habits then I’ll reassess my financial allotment for books.