I just rode my trusty bike (hereafter referred to as "Old Blue") through a lovely drizzle to the public library to get some fun books to read. That was an adventure.
"I'd like to get a library card. Is this the right desk to come to?"
"How old are you?"
Internal sigh. Just last Friday I was congratulating myself that I was finally assumed to be older than a freshman... and now someone thinks I look like a minor.
"Oh. Well, we'll need a driver's licence or some other form of photo ID."
Such is produced. It still has my home state on it, which brings a look of consternation to the poor librarian's face. "We need some sort of proof of residency. Do you have a bank statement, visa bill...?"
Of course not, since I just moved here. I explained that I was a student and had to explain how on earth I could be a student in Iowa and show up here at the same time. That thawed the librarians a little, and they tried to figure out a way to get around the system for me. So I'm supposed to call a guy named Jim tomorrow to see if I'm allowed to have a card even though I'm not a permanent resident. Probably this proof will require a signed letter from my cooperating teacher proving that I'm supposed to be here.
Lessons learned:
- I'm not in Iowa anymore.
- It gets dark about an hour earlier here so I need to plan my adventures on Old Blue accordingly.
- If I want to be taken seriously I'd better dress like an adult. Whatever that means. Maybe it would help if I did not arrive looking like a damp rat from the rain.