A Spoon & Short Story

I’m writing a massive research paper on ancient Egypt for school. I went to the library today to check out some books (duh) so that I have some more information on the wonderfully boring culture I’ve been learning about since third grade.

I haven’t been to the library in quite a long time. And it seems that the people in the library found that apparent. And when I say a long time, I mean a long freaking time.

Before I begin this story, I want to let you know that there was this cute guy on his laptop sitting right in front of the non-fiction section. I found him immediately because he was the only relatively attractive person in the library.

I walked straight to the non-fiction section with a sense of purpose to look for a book, only to realize that I have no comprehension of the Dewey decimal system. I stood in front of the shelves just looking up and down trying to make some sense of all the numbers. I heard the guy behind me chuckling as I turned to look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching me. He immediately looked down at his computer and pretended to be busy.

I walked away from the non-fiction section to the card catalog computer and looked up books on ancient Egypt. I then got the number and walked back over to the non-fiction section, repeating the number in my head. But by the time I got all the way over to the books, I had forgotten the number and stood there looking at all the rows again. I heard the guy behind me laugh again, so I self consciously walked down the aisle and pretended to look at a book until the guy stopped looking at me. 

When he resumed his computer work, I snuck around the back of the non-fiction section and back to the computers where I looked the numbers back up and wrote them down so I could remember.

I walked back to the non-fiction section, knowing exactly what had to be done. The guy actually snorted when he laughed this time. I went down the aisle of books labeled “100-200” and wove my way through all the sections until I got to the “900” where my Egypt books were. By this point, the guy was laughing and not even trying to hold it back. 

I picked out three heavy books containing all the Egyptian knowledge I would need to for my paper. I turned to walk out of the aisle, not realizing that my biggest book was bigger than I thought. I took out the entire section of Egyptian books and they fell, crashing to the floor.

I looked at the books angrily and blamed them for my embarrassment and I sighed and sat down on the ground to organize them. 

At this point, Mr. Laugh-at-the-dumb-blonde laughed so hard, the asian lady at the table next to him shushed him, and he picked up his stuff and moved away from the non-fiction section. He obviously found my plight too humorous to concentrate.

I finished cleaning my books up and went to check them out. 

The lady at the counter said: “Did you find everything okay?”

To which I replied: “There need to be classes on how this confusing place works.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean?”

“Forget it. Thanks…”