Emblem of my time here

I was dealing with one of those Chinese librarians that only Chinese can communicate with. Plain declarative sentences uttered twice or thrice, nothing allegorical, nothing idiomatic. And that’s in both directions.

She looks at my card in her hand, then starts pulling it back toward her, then stops herself, as if reminding herself she isn’t in a place where a central committee decides for you. “Would you like a new card?” she asks.

“No, I would not like a new card,” I say with alarm. (Then I have to say it again.) “It’s a prized possession.” It is. But someone thinks it has to be replaced. The Toronto Public Library in a nutshell.

PUBLIC LIBRARIES OF METROPOLITAN TORONTO North York Public Library card under Pet Shop Boys’ ‘Very’

And this, ladies and gentlemen, ends our journey here.

Further evidence TPL managers are really not my kind of people

Cathy Raine went to the official Riverdale re-opening. I had visited the first day it opened and was not really up to whatever frictions would be involved if I showed up to a branch teeming with managerial staff.

By staying home, I avoided this slap in the face (emphasis added):

I handed a fork to a man who’d missed his chance to grab one and marvelled at the pig’s head resting inside a platter with chunks of pork. A patron standing across from me commented: “That’s a vegetarian’s nightmare!”

It’s actually an outright assault on vegetarians. At least they didn’t install a fucking minaret.