|One day Target Bag Man stopped coming. The theory is that he found housing. I think everyone should have housing, I mean, like, there should be a fucking law, but, I’ll admit, I was even more pleased with the side benefit of his not coming to our library.
And yet, yesterday, there he was, at the front desk.
Remembering our ancient enmity, or forgetting it, he chose me to talk to.
He had gotten a WiFi Hotspot Device from a distant (to us) Library System. They told him that he had to return it directly to them and to nowhere else. And what he wanted to know was: Could he return it to me?
Because the question was patently insane I clarified it with him carefully. Then I answered:
He was not satisfied. “Could you call them and see?” He asked.
I told him I was not equipped to do that at the front desk. I sent him upstairs to the librarians because I respect them the least of my co-workers and that was where the issue should go anyway, in as much as it should go anywhere, which it shouldn’t.
“You can go upstairs and talk to the librarians at the reference desk and see if they can help you.”
He pointed up. “The librarians upstairs?” He asked.
“Yes.” I replied.
He then headed into the children’s room to ask them there.
I really, really hope it’s another two years before I see him again.