Desperate Times

As “No Meat Week” is reaching its waning hours, I can’t help but think that Grace is getting desperate.

How desperate you ask, Faithful Readers?

Well lemme tell you just how desperate.

So desperate that she may (or may not) have gone out of her way to hunt down my stalker to bring me meat.

Okay, I suppose I should give a little back-story so that this makes sense.

I’d been working at the library for about six months when this lady came up to the circulation desk to report her laptop was just stolen. I talked her through it and called the cops and everything that a good library dude should do. Well a week later she brought me a tiny little teddy bear to thank me.

It’s been all downhill ever since.

For nearly an entire year I could expect her to wander into the library during the shifts where I was working the desk alone (read: could not leave) and she’d talk (read: scream) at me about who knows what (read: she has a bit of an accent) and she’d bring me gifts (read: pilfered meat products).

One Saturday she came in with an entire platter of deli meats that she’d swiped from outside a conference room. Another time she brought me a bunch of questionable barbecued chicken she’d obtained from a student BBQ on the other side of campus. One rainy Wednesday night she came in, soaking wet, to give me a t-shirt and a crumpled up paper towel full of sushi.

Basically I can summarize by saying that the list of odd things she’s brought me is long and consists primarily of dead animals on wheat bread.

Anyway, she’s sorta disappeared in the past six months or so. I saw her once about two months ago when she brought me half-a-dozen suspect tuna sammitches that were far warmer than any tuna sammitch lacking the word “melt” should ever be.

Yesterday, a few of us at work were joking that she might show up again this weekend—just as I’m on my way toward dominating “No Meat Week”—to deliver copious amounts of meat, despite being a no-show for the better part of the last half-year.

Well the joke’s over.

She made an appearance today and she brought with her a big ole plate full of delicious-looking turkey sammitches. Now I’m sure she stabbed someone for them or took them from some important meeting that will now have a negative impact on the future of the MIT Libraries.

Right Now on the Other Side of Campus:

Important Decision-Maker: “Oh I’m sooooo hungry. What’s next on the agenda?!”
Less Important Decision-Maker: “Um…it looks like the Libraries are next on the list; primarily whether or not to keep any people from Iowa on staff.”
Important Decision-Maker: “Ah a very important issue.”
Less Important Decision-Maker: “Indeed it is.”
Important Decision-Maker: “If only I had something to eat, I get so angry and full of rage toward Midwesterners when I haven’t eaten.”
Less Important Decision-Maker: “Unfortunately, it looks like all of our turkey sammitches have been stolen, Sir.”
Important Decision-Maker: “NOOOOOOOOO!! Fire all the Iowans and burn all the libraries to the ground. If can’t have turkey, no one shall have books or free internet access!!”

Either way, I’ve not eaten the sammitches, I told her I’d just eaten and was too full. This was, of course, a total lie.

As a rule, I generally do my best not to eat any of the rogue meat products she brings my way, but for her to randomly show up as I’m down to less than 36 hours of “No Meat Week” remaining…one can only assume that Grace was behind this.

She knows I’m scared of my stalker—believe me, you would be too—and she knows that despite my calm, cool nature…I’m reaching my wits-end in regards to “No Meat Week.”

I am craving meat pretty much every second of every minute of every hour of every day right now. I know I can win this, but if I see one more commercial for KFC or TGIFriday’s or Applebee’s pimping their new meaty-menu options…I might snap.

As such, having an entire plate of turkey sammitches dropped in my lap when I’m alone in a library seems just a little too coincidental.

You’re a crafty-one Grace…sending in the person I’m scared of to bring me what I can only assume is tainted meat when I’m already reeling from the cravings.

You’re good…but not good enough. The sammitches are going bye-bye and I’m hanging tough.

Better luck next time!!