Bureaucratic Levity

When I worked for Memphis Public Libraries, I specifically was not a librarian. I worked in circulation: I checked books in and out, I managed patrons’ account, I shelved books, and I was a front-desk face when you came in. Very-broadly-speaking, actual Librarians are subject-matter specialists with specialist degrees.

About halfway through my tenure, the city hired a circulation lead: a woman whose job was to coordinate circulation across all branches, and serve as lead for all circulation clerks in the system. She was sweet. One of the first things she instigated was monthly meetings of all the branches’ senior circulation reps, which was me at our branch. Now, I’m not much for meetings, but she did her best to keep them interesting, relevant, and fun. So did I.

One month, she came in carrying a whole mess of the same issue of Essence magazine. Inside were paperboard pages of perforated cards, each of which bore an aspirational (almost euphemistic) goal—the original purpose of which I don’t know. I don’t remember any of them specifically, but imagine they said, “I pledge to treat myself and those around me with respect”, or “I pledge to take care with what I put into my body.” She gave one to each of us, and told us they were our homework for the next meeting: take care of yourself like the card said, and then come back and discuss it the next month.

Now, I’m not a graphical designer, but I am surprisingly well-versed in the art of the bodge. Obviously, I took my little card back to my branch, and instead spent the next month modifying it as best I could to look like the original, but with a pledge I could actually say I’d accomplished. Our next meeting came around, and she went around the room to all ~20 of us, reading our little cards and saying how we’d done.

Now, I liked to occasionally play the clown at these meetings, half to entertain myself as others, so when I read my little card, the room laughed and had a good time, but quickly calmed down and our lead asked, ‘what’d it really say, Daniel?’ I’ve never played a better straight man than that moment: I was confused at all their laughter and absolutely didn’t understand what she meant. I handed her my little card and blankly protested my innocence.

That’s the reaction I always want. It’s for the faces, y’know? The faces? The surprised faces? I watched the realtime transformation of her face from mildly bemused to abject shock as she read my paperboard card saying exactly what I’d read. I’d even tried to fake the little perforations on the edges! I’ve pulled off good gags, and this one was right up there: I disrupted that meeting for a long time as everybody looked agog at my terrific facsimile. I didn’t quite fool everybody. Some there had worked with me before, and quickly realized what I’d done, but bless them for not ruining the fun that afternoon!

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