Oh, irony strikes the Coleman/Baker household.
"Could you drop this book back to the library tomorrow?" Jane asks, "They won't be open, just stick it through the book slot."
Fleet Library does indeed have a book slot behind the war memorial, so that insomniacs (and/or people too tight to pay for the car park) can return books at five in the morning.
"OK", I say, taking the book from her sweet, sweet hands, "I'll put it in my school bag."
The book is a self-help title called "Getting Things Done".
"I never got round to reading it," she confesses. It is also a day overdue.
So, Monday morning, like some furtive cat burglar in reverse, I am "Getting Things Done" by shoving the book through the library return slot and fleeing for my life. As Mayor of Fleet Library on Foursquare, this is the sort of corruption that could lose me my position.
But having said that, if there was a book called "The Guide To Returning Library Books On Time", I'd keep it for a year, and keep their angry letters in a file for comedy purposes. As Mayor, not a court in the land would dare convict me.
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