Wonderful Things Happen At The Library

Yesterday was the last day for me to turn in three of my checked out books--I read none of them--and it was the last day that Andrew Sullivan's "The Conservative Soul : How We Lost It, How To Get It Back" was going to be held for me to pick up. After work I dropped off my many things at my apartment, and then headed down Madison Street to the Seattle Public Library. It was at the fifth avenue entrance that I inserted my three soon-to-be-overdue books into the magical book conveyor belt--oh, technology.

From there I entered the library and proceeded down the illuminated escalator to retrieve my book on hold. I found it without any problems, and then headed back up the escalator to pay my debt to literary society (90 cents) and check out. However, the woman at the desk (would she be a librarian? I do not know) informed me that I needed to pay my fines back downstairs.  No problem.  I went back downstairs, and wow.  There were four European guys hanging around, and they were very attractive--to say the least; I hate the use of double adjectives, as well as the word "hot" to describe something other than a state of temperature.  The point is that I got to check out some very deserving European guys.

After that I got in line, with a woman already at the counter checking out.  I could overhear the conversation she was having with the woman at the counter.  Apparently her library fines were 17 dollars and change.  If she could pay the fines down to 15 dollars or less, she could check out her books.  I noticed her search through her purse and eventually fall short of making that mark.  The woman at the counter suggested that she could go find an ATM to help her out, but with that seemed a bit over-the-top for the situation.  So I took it upon myself to reach into my bag, knowing that I had a handful of quarters and mixed change in there, and walked over to the counter to offer my assistance.  "You can just have whatever you need out of this," I said as I stood there holding out a hand full of loose change.  The woman was very appreciative, and even took less than what she needed.  The woman at the counter asked her if she knew me, and the woman in line replied that "no, he's just a nice guy", or something to that effect.

I had done my one good deed for the day, and I was satisfied.  And yes, I am fully aware that giving out a little bit of change is no big deal, but it's the gesture of kindness that counts in situations like these.  Give me a break here.