“Excuse me, Can I get some copies please?”
A gruff voice yanked me from the glorious world of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, back into the present, where someone apparently wanted some copies. Now. I quickly looked up from my worn copy of Pride & Prejudice to see a balding, middle aged man, shoving handfuls of paper in my face.
“I need copies of these now! I’ve been standing here all afternoon!” Raising his voice, I couldn’t help by notice a few things about the man, heck, I’m sure the whole library couldn’t help but notice either. The increasingly irate man’s face was red and pudgy, droplets of sweat gathered on his brow and over his upper lip, and I could tell that his tweed suit might have been the cause of his problem. People should know better than to wear tweed suits in the summer. It probably didn’t help that this particular gentleman was not exactly the skinniest man in the world. Maybe he should stop interrupting poor library workers reading Jane Austen and work on getting to a gym. Of course, what do I know? I’m just “the help.”
The man continued to wave his papers in my face, although I could see sweat from his hands seeping into the once crisp papers. Now, they were becoming a sodden mess. As I worked up the courage to reach out and touch the papers, a hand shot out from my right, snatching the papers from my outreached hand. I quickly turned to see who those hands belonged to.
Ugh. Jeremy.
With a smug smirk directed at me, he turned to the tweed man , fake smile in place.
“I’ll be happy to help you, sir. I’m sorry that my co-worker has been unable to assist you. I’ll have these copies ready momentarily.”
Jeremy sauntered away, copies in hand, looking as if he was crowned Miss America. All he needed was a floor-length gown and bouquet of roses in place of his worn sweater vest and pleated brown pants. The image of tall, ginger haired Jeremy as Miss America set me giggling. I looked around, hoping to see someone who shared my amusement. The only person I saw was tweed man, who looked like he would not be amused in any situation. Ever. Besides, how was he supposed to know what I was laughing at? It’s not like he could read my thoughts and I’m pretty sure he’d find my thoughts…. Annoying.
A figure popped back beside me, handing freshly made copies to Mr. Tweed. I watched as Mr. Tweed yanked back his papers and without so much as a “Thank you,” waddled away from the circulation desk and headed straight for the door. God, people are rude.
Now that the whole copy situation was over, I could go back to my book. I reached for my paperback, but found it missing. Ok, I know I left it right next to the computer, underneath the shelf, so did it just grow legs and walk out? I was starting to worry that I was losing my mind until I saw Jeremy out of the corner of my eye, waving my book around.
“Looking for something, Anna?” Jeremy sneered. “You know, you’re not being paid to read. You’re being paid to work.”
I shot invisible daggers at Jeremy’s head. I imagined his head of cropped red hair engulfed in flames. I dreamed of a day that I would never have to see Jeremy Watts’ stupid, smug little face ever again.
I broke out of my thoughts of Jeremy’s demise and snatched my book from Jeremy’s clammy hands.
Holding up my book, I announced, “We work in a library, Jeremy. Besides, last time I checked, I’m working the reader’s advisory desk. I am getting paid to read.”
I tucked my book under my arm and sauntered away, giving Jeremy a smirk as I passed him.”
I imagined Jeremy Watts was imagining my demise right at this moment, flinging invisible daggers at the back of my head.
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