Not A Recipe For Success

, , | Right | October 18, 2018

(It is about eight minutes until opening time at the library. I hear pounding on the front door and go to answer it, thinking it might be an aide or volunteer, neither of whom have keys. It’s a woman I’ve never seen before. We have a glass door, so I mouth at her, “We open at twelve,” and then hold up ten plus two fingers to indicate the opening time, but she still keeps knocking. I open the door and ask:)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Woman: “I need to make a copy of something.”

Me: “We open in eight minutes, at twelve o’clock.”

Woman: “It’ll only take a second.”

Me: “Like I said, we open at twelve.”

Woman: *shifting gears* “What if it’s for a recipe?”

Me: *pause* “We open at twelve.”

(I’m still not sure how she thought it being a recipe would somehow make it higher priority. In any case, it was apparently too important to wait eight minutes, because she left and didn’t come back.)

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