JCPL Sucks A$$

It's a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, and yet I must rant!

I was so excited to receive the call from my neighborhood man-brarian telling me that I was on The Road to reading the first novel of the challenge. I admit I waited a day, but I like to consolidate my trips as much as possible, working around nap time (both Bronwen's and mine). Today we had a few errands to run, namely buying a card (anniversary), buying meat (4th of July sales), and picking up the book. It was hot today. Blistering humidity. By the time I hauled Bronwen out of the market with $60 worth of various meats I was, well, quite frankly, ripe. I was hot, sweaty, and despite my 100 layers of deodorant, a bit musty. Bronwen was getting a tad irritable, no doubt because I had hauled her in and out of a hot car 3 times. I drive a Jetta, black. Black is a great color for many things: coffee, cocktail dresses, Taye Diggs, but for a car, it's sheer stupidity.

I promise B a quick trip in and out of the library. I go in, tell the gentleman at the front desk my name and the book title. He can't find it in "the back." I go to the reference desk where I requested the book initially. It was Methusala's daughter with her skirt tucked nicely beneath her boobs. She was slow in addition to being ancient. She walked back up to the front to check for the book in "the back." (Seriously, like she was going to see something Mr. "30-year-old check-out guy" couldn't?) I put B down and she starts crawling like a baby Dale Earnhardt all over the library. I let her, trying not to get to close to any patrons lest my sweatiness offends. Meanwhile, I can't help but think of my meat in the trunk, getting all toasty in the Black Jetta.

I'll move forward a bit quickly; no need to put you all through my own personal torture. They couldn't find my book. They found a copy on hold for David Rice--they wouldn't let me take it. I had to swear up and down I got a phone call, even at one point doubting my own veracity, until I took out my cell and recited the number from caller ID. Ha! Proved my point.

I left my number and went home.

I received a call about 30 minutes later saying my book had been there the entire time, but it was filed under Saint. (you know, instead of St.) So I understand and tell them I will be there to pick it up later today. The lady specifically tells me it will be at the reference desk.

Fast forward. Today is my 4th anniversary, hence the card. I am making a nice meal and realize that if I wait until after dinner, I will be 2 wine glasses closer to getting a DUI. So I decide to leave dinner on the stove, baby in the high chair--with TJ, and brave the weather to go to the library. Did I mention a storm was raging outside?

I run into the library, getting drenched of course, and guess what? Book is NOT at the reference desk, and the guy at the front can't find it. I am about to render my garments and tear out my hair. After 3, yes, 3 librarians look in "the back" finally they find my book.

Part of me wonders if David Rice is really going to be reading The Road any time soon.