Mad Mer and Me

Libraries are fascinating places. Not only are there fabulous books with titles like Don't Be That Girl, Walking on Eggshells and The Thing About Life Is That One Day You'll Be Dead right next to each other (what a love fest), there are the tantalizing bits people tell about themselves in their choices. Sometimes the real illumination is about myself and preconceived notions or biases that I have.

For months I'd been working in the back receiving holds for someone with the abbreviated title of MAD, MER. The "name" itself conjures a wild-eyed, grizzled old woman. The fact that the books were all quilt related only strengthened the image. Only, now, she lived in a shack, compulsively making intricate quilts out of potato sacks.

One day a co-worker happened to be out front when Mad Mer arrived to pick up her quilting books, three small children in tow. Just your average suburban mom with a penchant for quilting while watching Sex in the City (those DVD requests came later).

Or is she?