About 7:45 one night I realize that I had 3 books to return to the library and about 15 minutes left to do it in. So I jump up and was immediately attacked by my dog, Grendel. Most nights Grendel gets a walk between 7:00 and 8:00 PM, something we missed the night before because of all the rain, so she was full of energy to burn.
So I piled her and the books into my car and zoomed off to the library and Grendel did her best to cause me to crash. I get there with enough time to return the books, one of which I wanted to renew.
"One of these books was renewed once (once is the limit) on my mom's card. Can I just renew it on mine now?" I asked.
The lady gave me a weird look and told me they frowned on them doing that. I had to stop myself from pointing out that my mom had done the same thing the other day with one of her books. "However," the lady went on. "I can check this book in right now and place it on the carts, anyone can check it out then." She then quickly scanned the book then passed it back to me. "There," She said with a conspiratorial smile. "It's on the carts." So I checked it out and returned to the car.
Why does everyone break the same rules in a different way? Does the world just have too many loop holes allowing for too many confusing variations in style? Or do people's weird personal codes exist no matter the rules? Oh well I had my book.
Anyway I dropped my books off at the car and walked the dog a few blocks down to the courthouse square. A lot of people were out enjoying the summer weather. Live guitar music came from the front of the guitar store, mainly practice sounds. A few couples were dressed up and headed to The City Office & Pub (the only 4 star restaurant/bar in town) and high schoolers were out cruisin' the streets without mufflers. I noticed that all the doors to the old theater were open and you could see the gutted interior and a lone man in work cloths. Small town life at it's finest I suppose.
I let the Grendel off the lead, like I always do, so she could run through the grass. I guess there is some irony in breaking a city ordinance on the courthouse lawn but it's a pathetic excuse for a crime spree so I don't get any giggles over it. We did a lap around the building and I had a short conversation about Grendel with some random dude twice my age, Despite the topic he chose, I'd say he was more interested in meeting me than my dog but maybe I'm cynical.
Finally, I put Grendel back on the leash and walked over to the old movie theater. I'd spotted a single man working within so I walked up to the door and caught his eye. He invited the two of us in. I logically assumed he was the new owner and we started talking about the state of disrepair the last owner left had left it in. He'd basically used it as a warehouse of junk. Four feet of worthless crap had covered the entire theater. All of the seating, counters, and bathroom fixtures had to be replaced.
The man was in full PR mode. He was extremely open with me and any other person that walked by the theater. I got the feeling he'd left the doors open to encourage community dialogue. Twenty years without a theater down town is a long time. People are pretty disenchanted considering that for the past 6 years there had been a sign in the window stating: "Theater opening in 2000!," before that "in 1997!", "in 1996!", "in 1994!" and so on.
I asked him a bit about his business plan and what type of movies he'd show. He said he'd only be showing old movies or indy stuff once a week the rest of the time he'd run it as a basic dollar theater. Not exactly what I'd hoped for but small towns are rarely known for their high culture. I said goodbye and jogged most of the way back to the car.
As I approached my car, I thought to myself "I sure could use a good khamsin right now", since it was a bit chilly out and a khamsin is a type of hot wind, like a sirocco. It also means "50" in Arabic, and my automaton's name is Dreizehn which is "13" in German. Combined, 1350 has a special meaning to me since it is my WPM rate in LS chat. I decided to use Khamsin as my name because it describes me so well.
And that's my story.
Well, actually it's somebody else's story. I just plagiarized it from some random blog I found. But I figure it's about as interesting as any other "how did you get your name" story.
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