by Janet Gilmore

If Sharon, the dentist's office manager, hadn't dumped her boyfriend last Tuesday and then expected him to come back to her, I never would have had this problem. She did dump him, however, but he didn't come back, and she was heartbroken, so she had to go home, eat chocolate and cry for the rest of the afternoon, and why not?

Therefore, by the time I arrived, cheerful as ever for my 11 a.m. appointment, the office was backed up on every patient, and I had to wait at least 30 minutes.

“Do you have an errand you can run or something? Anything? We're running late,” one of the other receptionists asked. As a matter of fact I had the perfect errand to do.

That morning, my friend Rob had posted a notice on Facebook: BOOK DONATIONS NEEDED NOW! “Used books for adults, teens and kids needed to help raise funds for Abington libraries! Please donate good condition books, CDs and audiobooks. Bring to main circulation desk. 3 paper bags of books per day limit, due to space. Your donations are tax-deductible (ask for receipt when dropping off). Books and media are sold in the BookCellar on library’s lower level, on Amazon and near the main desk. Thanks!”

My husband, Hugh and I are book dealers. We buy and sell old books. Sometimes, to get the books we want in someone's house, we must buy some books that we don't want and can't re-sell. We donate them as a courtesy to a library, and at that moment, I had seven bags of courtesy in the back seat of my car, ready to donate.

Because we live in Philadelphia, we usually donate books to the Andorra Library because it's near L.A. Fitness, a Dollar Store, pharmacy and supermarket. But okay. I’ll go suburban if I have to. When I pulled up in front of the Abington Library trying to do my good deed for the day, the first paper bag tore, dropping books on the sidewalk. I left them for a moment and took in two other bags in my hands.

“Hi! I'm here to donate books!” Sometimes I'm so chipper, I revolt myself.

A woman I assumed was a librarian gave me the silent stare they must teach people in Position of Power School. “Books? Donations. Okay?” I repeated.

“You can put them on that cart over there,” she said.

The cart was way behind the counter, where a large sign said clearly I was NOT allowed. “Could you wheel the cart closer, please? These bags are heavy.”

“Give them to me,” said another woman with some common sense and a detailed knowledge of how carts work. When I brought the second load inside, the librarian said, “You know, we don't take books on Mondays or Tuesdays. Today is Tuesday.”

(“Lady, while you're in here in the nice air-conditioned library, I'm lugging charitable donations in from the sidewalk – ya want them or not?”)

And she handed me a FLIER! “TO OUR VALUED CUSTOMERS: We deeply appreciate your donation of books, music, CDs, DVDs and audiobooks.

Please observe the following guidelines:

“When: Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays only; Where: bring to Library Circulation Desk; How: paper bags; How much: 3 paper grocery bags per visit; We do not accept magazines, textbooks, encyclopedias, toys or games, VHS tapes or Audiocassettes.”

I've found that in every organization, there is usually ONE PERSON who is DETERMINED to adhere to the LETTER of the LAW no matter what, even if it's not really a law but only a guideline, for Pete's sake. I thought I had left that person behind when I quit teaching, but I had found another at the library, of all places.

My mother was a librarian, and she was not THAT PERSON. She was NICE! Her job was to HELP the library. If a gray-haired beauty like me lugged seven bags of books to the library, she'd smile, say THANKS and help her.

I read the flier, and didn't understand what was wrong with Mondays and Tuesdays. So I asked, “What's wrong with Mondays and Tuesdays?”

The librarian stared at me. I stared back. “We accept books on Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays only,” she said. Obviously she didn't know what was wrong with Monday and Tuesday, either.

“Well, listen, it's Tuesday and I have five more bags of books in the car. You want them?”

I couldn't believe it, but she said, “Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays only.”

Why do I even try to do good deeds? No clue. I don't really like to leave my house because weird things happen when I do. Like goofy librarians who know the days of the week and aren't about to let me get away with trying to slip in a donation on the wrong day.

“I can't come back, you know,” I threatened, mildly. “I'm only in Abington because my dentist is in Abington.

“Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays only,” she repeated.

Okay, if threats don't work, stealth does. I brought in the other five bags, left them, still in the bags, in the lobby of the library, speed-walked to my car and drove quickly to my dentist's office, another lifetime first.

So quickly, in fact, that I was stopped by an Abington police officer. “Ma'am,” he said. “Do you know you were doing 28 miles per hour in a 25 per hour zone?”

MORAL: Stay home.

Ed. note: Rob volunteers at the Abington Library and sometimes posts information like this on her Facebook page.