I formally withdraw my irresponsible ambitions to star in my own real-life BBC detective-librarian adventure.
One of our library patrons died this weekend. He was found by the gym on Saturday afternoon. The gym I went to on my lunch break earlier that day. The gym I went to, happily trotting along with my towel over my arm and taking pictures of a goldfinch, while WALKING RIGHT BY A DEAD PERSON. What is worse, I can’t even remember which hobo he was. Am counting our patrons as they come in now, mentally checking them off as not-dead, and feeling like an asshole. I do care about them, and I am sorry I let one of them lie out in the sun while I was jogging on a treadmill.
How many more people might be killed by careless misuse of the SEEEECRET? It is a dark and sinister force.
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