I'm in deep doodoo.
I have
a book out from the
Los Angeles Public Library that is waaaaaay overdue. I'm talking, like, you'll-ask-me-to-tell-you-and-i'll-whisper-it-in-your-ear-and-you'll-gasp-really-loud overdue. By my calculations, I could have bought the book at least three times by now. And then bought a gold-plated bookmark to keep my slowly-moving place.
My friends are talking, but I feel it's gone so far that it's like a test in willpower now. It's me against them. Them against me. Man against book-holding place. I kept getting calls on my cell from the LAPL robot lady telling me it's overdue. I tried to explain to "her" my situation but she kept telling me the same stuff. Syllable by slow syllable. I stopped taking her calls but she fills up my friggin voicemail. If you really think about it, a robot is essentially talking to another machine about me. It's like "
Terminator" all over again and they're out to GET ME!! Could I be the real John Connor?
I'm always on edge. When I walk in bookstores, I kinda go dizzy for a second. I even had a dream last night that I finally finished the book and I took it back to the library. I didn't just put it in the slot. No. I went up to the front desk to fess up and work out some sort of library payment plan for my dues. A lady that looked kinda like
Estelle Getty was working the counter. As I gave her the book and she scanned it in, a look of extreme disgust came upon her face and she used her thin wrinkly finger to push a big red button to the left of the computer. A trapdoor opened underneath me and I found myself stuck in a jail cell. Library Jail. For years and years and years. With nothing but large-print editions of the
Left Behind series to read for eternity!!
I'm going to finish the book, daggumit. I just don't know when. Until then, I've asked my family and friends to get off my back about the whole reading-the-book thing. It's something I have to do. Not just for me. But for slow readers everywhere. We must make some kind of stand. Thank you.