She is wearing those black,
half moon glasses that I like so much. Her hair is short and sort of
sheared to the side. As she moves around the desk I can see her edges are sharp in places, smooth in others.
Aerodynamic. She clicks on the keyboard while standing, half leaning, effortless. Although she wears very little
makeup she has taken the time to draw a burgundy line around her lips,
putting them in perspective. After six trips to the
help desk in three days I have picked up a great deal of details. I wish her name was Liz-beth or Rochelle, but it is
Ann. Seems really not-
exotic, but she is a
librarian, so I don't know why I am surprised.
It's about four minutes before close and she is taping on her Snoopy watch and looking out the glass doors.
Waiting for a ride? A carriage somewhere?
Suddenly she turns to look at me and I realize that yes, I have been staring, and my stack of research books are unopended and no defense. I try and rework my grimace into a grin. Nope.
But now is the surprise, a smile and a blush. A quick look down and then back. A wipe at the brow and another smile. Yikes! I am electrocuted. I walk over slowly, in case I have misjudged the signs.
She gives me her best Library science finger to the lips and with a sly grin, writes me a note on the back of a sign out card. It says:
When you are wanting something badly
you should ask nicely or someone
might think you are acting wantonly.