Читать книгу The Last Body Part - Sarajabe Woolf - Страница 8

TWO

Two Forms of ID

When I worry, I turn to words. Not the spoken kind, but the kind piled on pages in a set order. So when I knew I needed PT surgery, I made my way to a library. But not just any library. This was the British Library in London—more like a church for those who worship books. These books are all the more dear for the fact that not just anyone can walk in and touch them.

Getting a British Library card is not as much work as getting a driver’s license, and not as fussy as getting a passport. But it’s hard in a weird way, because you can’t just want the card. Wanting a driver’s license or a passport is good enough. But wanting to read the books in the British Library? You better have a good excuse. Waiting in line to get a library card is not as long a process as waiting in line at your local DMV, but the look of dread on each face is the same. At the DMV: What if I don’t pass the driver’s test? At the British Library: What if they don’t like my reason for wanting a card?

The best plan is to say you need the card for research. A letter from someone official that says you need this card can help too. Plus, wear a clean shirt. Brush your hair. Smile. Don’t look scary. And bring two forms of ID. Not DVD rental cards from stores that have closed, but a driver’s license and a passport. Next thing you know, you’re smiling into a tiny camera mounted on the desk. Then out pops a card, your photo looking like they used a fish-eye lens, your nose much larger than you imagined.

The reward is that you can wander the book stacks. Or you can fill out a form asking to have books sent back from overflow storage. Some books are stored in the town of Boston Spa. These books sip perfect gin and tonics while getting foot massages. They arrive at the library well rested, eager for you to read them.