And told me not to make Londoners out to be so intimidating. She is quite a scary London-type, so I will do what she says. Instead, I will talk about the local Library in DC.
And I will not compare it to libraries in London.
I opened an account yesterday and it was a very pleasant experience. First of all, the DC Library didn't ask for four forms of ID to open an account (in another large, unnamed UK city, acceptable forms of ID helpfully included Firearms Certificates. Jolly Good. That's when my library became Amazon.com). Yesterday I produced my UK passport and read out my new address and bam! I had a Library Card AND a mini card on a key fob (more on these magical key fobs to follow.)
Joy enough for one day, surely? No, I then discovered that I can take out FIFTY books at a time. Fifty. FIFTY. Even at my University library, stocked with thousands of unloved texts desperate to be taken home and adored, the $20,000 Postgrad fee entitled me to a measly 30-book maximum. So you can imagine my irritation yesterday when I realised I would only be able to fit eleven books into my handbag!
As I browsed the shelves, I restrained my inner book-glutton. Eleven. Stick to eleven. I had to choose carefully, ensuring each of The Eleven would paint me in the correct light when laid casually on the table as Hank came home from work. Each book would say "Look, darling! I am intelligent!" And Hank would be proud of his unemployed fiance and think "she does things while I am out. She learns stuff."
So I borrowed five Dora the Explorer books and the rest were on "Top places to get drunk in DC". Just kidding. I have, however, been flicking through the America the Beautiful series to find pictures of nice spots around town and am duly impressed. Maybe DC will be ok, you know? We shall see what my sister says when she comes to visit from London in Feb.
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