Her passion for writing erotica was curtailed early on. All because of a particular… incident. Her mother discovered some naughty notes her sixteen-year old self had penned to a boyfriend. Her father was informed. The word ‘slut’ was bandied about. Chaos ensued.
Okay, Charlotte, time to take stock.
Current state of affairs in the life of Charlotte Campbell (God, that sounds pompous … .)
Health: I’ve always got my health. (I sound like my grandma. Good to start on a high note, though.)
Best friend: The wonderful and ever supportive Delia, my BFF since we were six. (See? Things still okay.)
Creative endeavors: Er, sometimes I draw … stuff. (Moving on!)
Accommodation: Living in my dead father’s tiny rundown cottage where he used to come to write his sermons. (Hm, yes, this is where it starts going south.)
Employment: Dead end, repetitious, brainless, monotonous, soul destroying work under the supervision of a tyrannical porcine mutant masquerading as a library technician, the hopelessness of which makes me want to stick pins in a voodoo doll of … someone who shall remain nameless. (Yep. That about says it. Oh wait … .)
Relationship status: Alone. (And therein lies the rub.)
How did it come to this?
Pig Face is on the rampage again. As if it’s not demoralizing enough to be a grown woman with a tertiary level education whose sole job is to move books from one place to another, Pig Face has to elevate my misery by barking orders at me like I’m Joan Crawford and she’s Mommie Dearest.
I’m guessing the gimp she must have as a husband failed to get her off again last night since today she’s marching around here spewing her wretched bile, like a volcano of rage.
Every time I come back here you are scribbling in that book … or whatever it is you’re doing!
I could tell she’s been saving that one up awhile. She’s seen me back here ignoring Fritz and working in my sketch pad and she’s just been waiting for the time to unload. Yes, I’ve named the automated book sorter Fritz. It seems appropriate since he’s German engineered and always on the fritz. And yes, I am referring to an inanimate object as ‘he’. Another indication that keeping me shut away in the bowels of the library, aka The Dungeon, with only a sorter for company will one day steal my sanity. I’ll become like that woman who fell in love with the Eiffel Tower. One day Pig Face will come back here and find me making out with Fritz’s exception bin or humping his conveyor belt. They’ll have to cart me away, raving and mad, and when the poor sap they get to replace me asks why the position is vacant, people will say, “Oh, Charlotte had to go away for a while. We don’t talk about Charlotte.” To be fair, I know I shouldn’t be working on my sketches on the library’s dime. But I just get so bored. When all the holds are wrapped and everything’s checked in, what else can I do but doodle and … .
Okay, here’s my secret. Well, one of them. A not-so-deep-dark one.
Sometimes I doodle sketches of what I think certain patrons might look like based on the holds that come in for them.
JOHANNESSON, HENRIETTA loves her romances. At least ten a week come in for her. The odd cookbook, too. About once a month she’ll get a different travel book and sometimes the cookbook theme ties in, like that time she ordered Japan by Rail and 100 Ramen Recipes. Somehow I don’t think she ever gets to any of the places she reads about.
Then there’s DOBSON, WILLIAM B. Ostensibly a man of the cloth is Mr. Dobson, mostly requesting non-fiction Christian works by theologians like Thomas Kellerman and C.S. Lewis, or books with titles like, In Defense of Marriage or God’s Plan: One Man, One Woman. But in the last couple of months other non-fic titles have crept in, How to Open Up Your Marriage and Sex at Dawn. I wonder if old William is merely researching other opinions or if he’s planning to spring a Newt Gingrich on the missus. Are all men cheating, lying bastards?
But perhaps that’s my skeptical, marriage and religion-weary taint on things. Then of course there is CURTIS, NATHAN P.
Oh, Nathan … .
That’s how I ended up here in the first place.
Find out more...
Find out more...