Bit Me on the Bum

 

I had noticed the current edition of ‘The New York Review of Books’ had been interfered with — some pages were missing — so I brought this to the attention of the Chief Librarian. “Oh dear,” he said. “This isn’t the first time. Thank you.” I knew it wasn’t. The issue previous to this one had gone missing.

 The next week when I went to the tub containing the recent issues of ‘The New York Review of Books’, it was empty. A note in large print informed that due to vandalism all issues of the journal could be accessed only in ‘The Reading Room.’ Bummer! The Reading Room had strict security. It was like entering a prison. No personal effects could be brought in. You had to sign a book, be watched over by staff and you could not photocopy. Bummer again!

 Still the journal was safe. The Sommerville Reading Room is where journals and magazines go to be protected from the public.

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2 thoughts on “Bit Me on the Bum

  1. A bit of an adventure in a library. The scene of the crime. All those quiet people who are really criminals. I wonder if Agatha Christie ever set a plot in a library?
    Check for concealed doors. If you ever go missing, I know where to look.

    Like

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