Burnt

Patron: Hi, I have a book to return but there’s a problem.

Me: All right, let’s see it.

Patron hands me an opaque plastic bag. I open it, and my body, my workstation, and my soul are suddenly covered in the charred ashes of what was once a James Patterson.

Me, internally: Wow what the fuck you’re an asshole

Me, externally: Oh me oh my what happened to this poor tome

Patron: There was a fire but this shouldn’t have been burnt so I don’t wanna pay the fee.

Me: Blinks silently

Patron: So, the fire department came, and they started fighting the fire. But this still got burned. That’s their fault and I shouldn’t pay for it.

Me: I don’t… that’s not how fire departments work.

Patron: But it was on the other side of the house!

Me: Uhh

Patron goes on for like 2 minutes about how the fire and the damage to the book are not their fault, and I listen with a really dumb look on my face. Eventually I send them off to speak to a real librarian, and I watch helplessly as the librarian listens to the same lunacy for like ten minutes. I assume the librarian forgave the fine- it’s generally our policy to forgive damages from house fires- but don’t dump your ashes all over me, god dammit.