MARY
Hey, is that the new Grisham novel?
TROY
Yeah. I just finished it on the plane.
MARY
Was it good?
TROY
It was alright. Typical Grisham.
MARY
I've been wanting to read it.
TROY
(silence)
MARY
So can i borrow that? I fly out again on Sunday and need something to read.
TROY
Sorry but I don't lend my books.
MARY
What? Why not?
TROY
Terrible boating accident as a child. Since then I just don't lend them.
MARY
No seriously. What do you think I won't give it back?
TROY
No. I know you'll give it back.
MARY
What then? Do you think I'm going to mess up your precious little book?
TROY
It is simply my experience that when I loan a book out it does not come back to me in the same condition as I gave it.
MARY
Geez. If I wrecked the book I'd buy you a new one.
TROY
I'm not interested in a new one. This is the one I read and it is the one I plan to keep. And, I'm not saying that people destroy them, they just come back different than I gave them.
MARY
What? You mean like it would have a bent page?
TROY
Did it have a bent page when I gave it to you?
MARY
Oh my lord. You're a dick.
Yes I am Mary. The better part of this story took place the next day at work. Mary sent out an email to our department stating that she was starting a group library and that she welcomed everyone to freely contribute and read the books in this collection. Everyone but troy that is. She also went on to huddle with two or three co-workers at a time and tell, hand on hip, of my psychotic tendency towards my books and how I probably went home and rolled around on the bed with them at night and said cute things to them in the dark.
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