After months of being separated, the Library and I reunited. And it feels so good. Cause we understood.
Only now the experience is like a cop TV show/Colombian cartel movie drug deal.
At the appointed date and time—you get a time and a date when the deal is going down. When your shipment has come in.
I step up to the table, make eye contact and wordlessly place my library card on the table and take 2 steps back.
She takes 2 steps forward, looks down at my card and she looks up at me: scanning. I’m not carrying a wire or heat: either a gun or coronavirus fever.
She nods. I nod back.
We good. She has the stuff and is willing to give it to me. Which is a deep relief because I’ve been jonesing since I quit cold turkey back in mid-March.
I step up to the table, make eye contact, and wordlessly place my library card on the table and take 2 steps back making eye contact the entire time.
It’s not said but I know: Make. No. Sudden. Movements.
I’m nervous. I wanna make a “joke” to evict the tension. I can feel a drop of sweat slowly sliding down my back like a lover’s gentle one finger caress.
I take two steps forward maintaining eye contact, in one sweeping motion grab the bag and grab the card turn and walk briskly to my car. In the car, I tear open the bag and yep…that’s the stuff.
Smells so good. I exhale. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath this whole time. I start the car thinking this should tide me over but the Library and I know…that’s not true. I’ll be back.
They got the stuff I want.
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