Love in the LibraryI was that small tow-headed boy who sat by himself on the school bus, eyes wide behind thick glasses and nose buried in a book. So to me, a library job sounded perfect. My junior year of college I applied for a position and found myself working evenings seven to midnight, Monday through Thursday, with weekends off. Because I was the new guy on the shift, I got assigned to returns.
In theory, it sounded simple enough—each book had its place on the shelves and none of the patrons could be expected to put anything back where it belonged. All books that came into the library were sorted and stacked onto carts, spine up and sorted by floor. Once a cart was full, I dragged it to the elevator and began the arduous task of putting the books back in their proper places. With fiv
