Back in college, my wife, Lily, dreamed of becoming a librarian.
I'm not kidding.
As a high school senior, she researched and applied to the best librarian schools in the US. She polished her resume by volunteering in the local library, working diligently to earn recommendation letters from the kind of cranky old people who work at libraries and registries of motor vehicles.
It fit her quiet nature, her love of books, and her dislike of business people and hustle culture. She pictured herself enjoying the serenity of a quiet library on a rainy Thursday morning, memorizing titles and authors as she stocked the shelves, knowing exactly what to recommend for story-loving children and cute bookish boys who walked through her doors.
Lily found her way to a private liberal arts college in upstate New York, by junior year was well on her way to an internship in the small, decrepit library in her dingy college town. This sounded perfect, because her then-boyfriend was on the football team and would spend most of summer on campus, training hard to finally earn a starting spot (he got beat out by a freshman).
In early April, three weeks before finals, one crazy week changed everything.
First, Lily got dumped. Her boyfriend, who I won't name even if I want to, cheated on her with a sophomore cheerleader. He at least had the decency to admit it, after three months of it happening. What a gentleman. It happened to be her birthday that week, so she found herself alone, working in a library, sad and needy a week after being dumped but months after being emotionally abandoned by him.
It was one of the nights in the library where it got so quiet, Lily started to wonder if this was the right career choice. She could try something more exciting, like being a long haul truck driver. For the first time in what felt like hours, the large wooden doors at the front of the library swung open. Two frat-looking guys wearing flannel shirts walked in. The last guys you'd expect to be in the library on a Friday night.
Lily kept an eye on them as they perused the fantasy section, then business books, then romance, clearly having no idea what they were looking for, or not looking for any book at all. She started to get nervous. She was working alone this Friday night. The girl who was supposed to be stocking the shelves while Lily managed the desk called out sick. Lily was thrilled to learn this friend later felt well enough to attend a party off campus and post photos of herself enjoying the miraculous recovery. Lily was far from jealous, she truly hated parties and only ever went out of social pressure. But after the breakup she was feeling lonely and looking forward to a night of goofing around in the library with a sort-of friend.
Now, she was forced to deal with probably drunk frat boys looking to flirt with her or do some stupid dare, completely alone. If she had to call Nancy, her seemingly 98-year old boss who refused to retire, this late on a Friday night, 7:15, it would be hell to pay, no matter how justified Lily was in needing help. That's just how Nancy was. This was all on Lily.
Lily cut to the chase. Better to deal with this now than let these guys build courage to do whatever they're planning, she thought. "Can I help you guys find anything?"
Immediately she regretted opening the door to communication. And her outfit choice: a low-cut, green top and bra that were getting too small because her boobs would not stop growing that year, black skinny jeans, black Vans sneakers with a white stripe, and black oversized glasses. As she walked to the library earlier, she caught herself in the mirror and noticed she looked... a lot less dorky than normal, a function of not doing her laundry rather than intentionally. But that thought would never occur to some dumb college boy.
"My friend, Griff, thinks you're super cute and wants to know if you wanna go out later," a scrawny boy said as he pointed towards his friend, laughing to the brink of tears. The typical smoothness of a college male. A shame, because his friend Griff was good looking. Tall with broad shoulders, curly blonde hair, a clean face and strong jaw.
"I don't date. Can I help you find anything?" Lily asked again. These boys didn't know how sensitive that topic was at that moment. She didn't recognize them. They must have been freshmen. When they didn't have an immediate answer, she pounced. "If you're not actually here to study or check out a book, you need to go." Lily pointed to the sign behind the desk, rule number two: No Loitering.
Griff spoke up. "No, no. We are studying. I have a project in English 15."
"Then why's he here?" Lily asked, pointing to the shorter, skinnier guy.
"Blake is my little cheerleader," Griff answered. Guy friendships are so weird.
"Oh, cute!" Lily played along, feeling immediate regret again when she saw Blake's face light up as if she called him cute.