So, everyone seems to be asking me for directions lately.
Okay, I don't mean 'everyone' everyone. It would take more time than I have in my lifetime to answer the way-finding requests of the 6+billion folks out there. (Although I'm sure they all deserve assistance. Except for you, Jerome.)
I guess technically it's only happened about 3 times in the past month or so. Which isn't that many, I suppose. Except that somehow it seems like a lot when compared with the amount of times (I imagine) that guy with the goatee, shaved head and tattoos curled around his arms gets asked for directions. Or even you. Do YOU get asked for directions that often? Probably not!
Because, you see, you don't have one of those faces. Apparently, I DO.
You know, one of those faces that just exude rosy-cheeked approachability and friendliness, the kind of face that smiles at your little dog as it poops on the sidewalk, or at your child as he/she tugs on your pants and whines for that bunch of broccoli strategically placed in the checkout line. The kind of face from which sparkles of glitter fall, which beams pure cherubic light, which says to your a-wearied soul (not in words but in visual images and possibly scent, which count more than words anyway), "My friend, we have been parted from one another for a long time. I know you do not remember me, but I remember you fondly. I burped you as a baby, kissed your forehead after pulling you from a bully-induced dumpster dive, sang soft melodies in your ear to help you to sleep on that crowded train (and you thought it was your neighbor's iPod, you silly). Now come. Come, ask me aught and I will provide it if it be within the power of these two poor hands of mine, or possibly my brain. Come, friend. Please ask."
And they do. They ask.
They say, "Excuse me, but could you tell me where the town hall is?" Or sometimes, "Pardon me, but do I need to use this machine to pay for my train fare?" And occasionally, "Alas, dear friend, I am soul-torn and weary. Have you any balm for this wounded heart of mine?"
This is why I'm going to make a great librarian. Knowing the collection? Piffle. Running programs? Pshaw. Having the face of an apparently eminently approachable stranger? Invaluable.
(This, I believe, is the speech I should have given during my phone interview this morning. I totally think it could have landed me the job. Experience or no experience. I gots the face, baby.)
10 comments:
it's all true. and i'm sure that's the confidence you conveyed during your interview today. :-)
(p.s. i'm dying to ask how it went, but that's the question i've hated the most during my interview stint. i have no clue how it went. ask the person who interviewed me silly.)
I kept laughing outloud during this post.
Pure genius.
I wish glitter fell from my face. Much like a certain vampire we all know. Except way cooler, and not in an emaciated I-want-your-blood sort of way.
YAY! A post! Very well written, but my favorite part was the very subtle homestar quote. I'm proud of you Beth.
I love to read your goings and comings. I am sure that my little boy (who begs for the strategically placed broccoli, I might add) would love to ask you questions. I hope things are going well... we'll keep our fingers crossed for a librarianship.
Oh Beth. How did you know my children try to get at that broccoli? and those string beans? I would love to come across someone in Boston who admitted they were "soul-torn and weary." But truly, you do gots the face, baby.
Yay! You were able to post. I love your deep thinking, and yes I too have to admit that you have a pleasant approachable face. If I was in Boston and needed help or was lost and needed directions I would definitely want to ask you instead of somebody with tattoos all over them and such. I also agree that a librarian needs to be very approachable so you will be a fabulous librarian. I've ran into librarians at the UVSC and BYU libraries that you didn't want to approach for fear of having your head bit off. It's very unnerving and almost makes you leary to go to the library. Your pleasant nature and approachability will give you the busiest library around!
Also, the title of the post reminds me of Jenny by Flight of the Concords. Seen that one yet? Its a good one!
I have now been There and Back Again, and have access once more to my beloved blogs. (Yours among the foremost.)
I know where you got The Face. I have The Face as well. As burdens go, in this sad and dreary wilderness that we call modern life, it isn't such a hard load to carry.
Let your Light so shine, my dear. The world needs Light so desperately. And sweet faces that seem a haven in the dim.
So very glad that someone else in the family has that "face". I've always wondered why in the grocery store for not apparent reason total strangers start asking me questions. We must be very, very safe.
love
Aunt Susan
Beth--I think I speak for your entire readership when I ask, poignantly --Where ARE you? We miss you. Please come back to your blog.
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