Hot on the news that tznius is now in, one of our regular readers, a nice Chabad dude who works nearby, sent us a sort of love letter that he’d like to dedicate to a comely local librarian that he’s taken a fancy to.
Yup, that’s what I said. An attractive local librarian. That tznius thing is powerful yo!
Anyhow, here’s ST’s uh… love letter. Enjoy, he’s kinda funny.
An Open Letter to a Lovely Librarian
Dear Librarian, You are super hot. Because of you I visit the library on a regular basis. I realize that the existence of a sexy librarian is akin to the discovery of an obese cheerleader. This makes your pulchritude even more precious. The library excursion is all about rummaging through musty books. And you have become the gold at the end of the rainbow of tomes.
I confess that historically, my library conduct has been a far cry from exemplary. As a child, I owed so many books to the village library, that the townsfolk would come to my house to borrow books. But this was in the past. One glimpse of you and my library recklessness has been reformed. Furthermore, if you should decide to fall in love with me, I will become a volunteer bounty hunter for the library.
My feelings for you run deep. So deep that the depths of the oceans are feeling intimidated. Before I laid my eyes on you, I professed fondness for two unrelated things. Namely, the female and the book. Then you arrived and combined my ardent affections into a single chapter.
Never have I felt this way towards a librarian. You have become the soul and spirit of my literary microcosm. Please take me seriously, for I seek truth. On occasion I will also seek out a good deal on designer jeans. Consider the fact that the only genre of books that I read is non-fiction.
I hope that I do not come across as an eccentric. Most people define me as a normal person. I like watching the television programs and I harbor a dislike for the commercials. Especially the advertisements that flaunt luxury vehicles (for I am destitute) and beer (for I detest its musky flavor and prefer vodka).
I feel that it is necessary for us to have an honest relationship. I therefore wish to confess a misdeed. The library card that I use is not mine. It belongs to my cousin. I had no choice. He had a card and I did not. Please forgive me. My moral judgment was impaired by my desire to see you and by my pining to be well read. I am sorry for misleading you and for deceiving the institution that you work for.
If you were a book, I’d struggle with the task of indexing you, as the options would be endless! Your eyes radiate mystery. Your facial expression conveys drama. Your chiseled features would be best suited amongst the shelves of architecture. And your feminine figure that defies agnosticism would be displayed behind the glass of the art displays.
My beloved heartthrob, please do not be alarmed by my forthcoming inquiry. Once as I exited the library, I spotted you driving off with another man. Was that your boyfriend who picked you up after your shift???
If yes, can you forget him and remember me? If romantic amnesia is not an alternative, can you at least set me up with your sister? If you don’t have a sister, can you convince your parents to adopt a (leggy) super model and then hook her up with me?
And if that intriguing male was not your boyfriend, who then was it? Were you being kidnapped? Was there a ransom note? Do your parents intend on delivering the unmarked bills? If the transaction goes smoothly and your release is secured, can we go out for coffee after your nerves settle down?
Yours for all Eternity,