ahh, work.

Here are some highlights from the past few weeks:

1) I had a my second twelve (ish) year old boy tell me that he had never once finished a chapter book. Not once. I think my heart stopped beating a little.

2) I had a homeless man ask me to take apart the public water fountain since he had managed to spill his 'pills' down it while attempting to take some.

3) I met Foot Fetish guy face to face as he tried to tell me the public computer filters were blockin him from accessing his 'email'.

4) Bounty Hunter said I looked hot one day which did not serve to better my slightly battered ego, but merely made me a little ill.

5) Crazy "Volunteer" 'John'* finally figured out my name. This is not a good thing. 'John' comes in on Mondays and Wednesdays to allegedly 'volunteer' which consists of him shuffling around the kids non-fiction, squirreling away pencils in one of the pillars and constantly rearranging the world books by placing the older editions on the top shelf and moving the newer, timely ones further down. I take this to mean he secretly yearns for the days of yore. He scares the hell out of kids since he is a portly dude, wears huge coke bottle glasses, has a longish scraggly beard and wears a pork pie hat. He also has a decidedly feminine southern drawl which he mainly uses to ask me about my weekends. Yesterday he asked me if I attended a 'weenie-roast' over th 4th of July. I refuse to look into that statement further. No one knew when he started 'working' there and no one knows who gave him permission. My biggest beef with him is that he refuses to fucking leave so you have to start prepping him at 5:15 when we close at 6:00 and at that point he begins to circle the desk, eying the pencils and constantly readjusting fliers. The battle generally escalates to me shutting off all the lights and inching closer and closer to him so that he basically backs himself out of the door. I'm not even kidding here folks.

6) I unwillingly lost a few years off of my life yesterday when I nuked a 1/2 full cup of Dunkin Donuts a few minutes too long and the styro-foam began to melt and bleed into a puddle of noxious coffee. Brain cells are an overrated thing anyway.

*Have changed his name in the off chance that he knows what a computer is or how to turn it on or how to hack into whatever privacy settings I may have established. I'm sure that by changing his name he will in no way recognize himself.