Anyway, I was at the library recently and I brought my most recent pile of new finds to the check-out counter. The lady at the counter (who always makes me think of the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland because she elongates her vowels), ran my card and said,
“I’m sooooorryyy, youuuuuu seem to haaave reaaaached your limiiiit.”
This woman also has the unfortunate habit of blinking rapidly as she speaks, creating a completely contradictory effect to her slow pattern of speech. All of these things together are very distracting, so for minute I didn’t even hear what she said, imagining instead her as an excitable chihuahua whose speech has been impeded by a stroke.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Your cheeeeeeck oooout limit. Youuuuu haaaaave reached iiiiit.”
This was news to me. Sure there was a plethora of books in the backseat of my car and on the tank of my toilet, but most of those books I had only read once. The ones in the bathroom I hadn’t even finished yet, but short of resorting to medicinal inducement I’m not obliged to spend as much time in the bathroom as I do in my car.
“What is my limit?”
“Youuuuu are alloooooted 50 booooks at any oooone tiiime.” Blinkblinkblink.
I had limited out! And at 50 books! Rather than be chagrined I was elated! Surely this was a rarity! I should be in the paper! Maybe not front page, but at least under “Notable Achievements”, my name and a picture of me surrounded by all 50 of my books.
“No!” people would gasp “50 books all at once? And you tried to check out more? Inspirational.”
My visits to the library would change drastically. Red carpets and private access to an exclusive room where only the best and brightest books were held. Library staff would whisper to the other patrons “Do you know who that is? That’s Tiffany, she Limits Out!”
I would be a kind and benevolent ruler of the library. Allowing everyone access in the next 2 years or so. However long it took to finish reading all the books without having to wait for transfers or languishing on a waiting list for some despot to return a book I wanted to read.
“Aaaaand it appeaaaars a feeeew of theeeem are ooooverduuuue.”
I’ve worked out an extension program for my overdue books, but it’s only for a week. I hope my husband can hold it that long.
