I romanticize…. just about everything.
But here I was, “AT THE LIBRARY!” about to get my library card for the first time since elementary school.
It was magical.
I was in the moment.
I had my proof of local residency and my application all filled out.
I was positive once the lady looked over my application and handed me my new card I would get lost in the rows of books. I would spend hours reading only to stop because a dashing young suitor was so captivated by my love for books that he couldn’t spend another minute without getting to know me over coffee.
We would soon fall in love.
It was the only way.
As I waited for the library issuer to assist me, I stood hopeful in front of a man down on his luck. He smelled of yesterday’s fast food and talked loudly to a visitor to “Stand in the line correctly!” He clearly was just as excited for me as I was. It was nice to have a cheerleader there for support.
It was finally my turn.
I handed over my application.
Smiled politely at the lady.
She was about to become a part of my destiny.
As she ran her fingers over my application, checking every line, she left a trail of orange powder behind. Her hand stopped and rested for a minute than continued down the paper. Where it had rested there was a permanent Cheetos thumbprint.
She clearly was in a rush to help find my one true love that she stopped her lunch to assist.
Her eyes caught sight of her fingers and she slowly moved her hand to her mouth and licked the powder cheese. Off. Every. Finger.
With her newly glistened fingers, she moved back to my paper, dampening the application as she finished looking it over and then handed me my library card.
“Good luck, my dear. There is well dressed man browsing literary fiction who needs a silly girl to brighten his day” was what she said with her eyes as her mouth told me “Don’t lose this card or you will be in big trouble! You hear me?”
Oh, I heard you all right.