Reference is hereby made to that certain Houston Library Jungman branch located on Westheimer Road. Please allow me to request that any and all persons accountable for its closure without foreknowledge to its loyal patrons via e-mail, postal service mailing, website announcement, telephone call and/or any other courtesies go fuck themselves.
Twice.
I hummed away the busy day at work happy as happy can ever be. The hours clicked away quickly and I almost skipped to the car thinking that (i) I got off work in time enough to go to the library, (ii) I had not one but two books to pick up, and (iii) it is still sunglasses-needing sunshiny so I don’t have to be completely paranoid and freaked out that I am going to be raped in the parking lot.
I zipped through traffic with anticipation building to a pinnacle peak, almost panting by the time I pulled into the small drive and I, slowing not only my speed but my breathing, immediately knew something was wrong. It was a deserted wasteland. Balls of discarded papers literally blowing about.
I knew but I didn’t want to know. I grab my precious, oh-so-precious, coffin purse and jump out, locking the xBox behind me as if I was truly going to be a while. I approach the entrance door with a wide smile of denial and refuse to look at the large-and-in-charge poster taped to the door and instead push at the silver handle with all my might as if I could will it open. In my mind’s eye I can see my books – they are right there – I can smell their withered, worn, wrinkled, coffee stained covers.
Instead I absorb the sadness that is my life and call the number on the poster to obtain the alternate location. While I know it will be a pain in the ass in Houston traffic, I am willing to make the drive, no matter where it is, to get my (MY!!) books. I had been waiting months for them to be ordered as your vast collection did not include these particular titles. I then waited a week before visiting as my schedule has been overwhelmingly full.
I am calmly informed by a lovely lady named Nancy at the Looscan branch that my books will not be delivered to them until Wednesday and that I should give them a week to sort through everything.
Oh, and for good measure, the Looscan location is a distance that covers some of the worst traffic known to all of mankind.
If I had a dick, this, Jungman branch of the Houston Library system, is where I would tell you to suck it.
Yours very truly,
That Crazy White Bitch on the Security Tape
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