A few weeks ago I picked up some, moderately shameful, new running music at my local library.
Turns out that was the beginning of a mystery worthy of Nancy Drew... or me (I do have a penchant for Murder She Wrote).
After I turned the stack of CDs back into the library, by way of the night drop slot, the computer still said I had Ke$ha at home and was slowly racking up overdue fees. In addition I also got banned from checking out new books or CDs. Surely this was some sort of music god's karmic justice for actually checking out the CD to begin with.
This did not help my summer book reading mission or the fact that I needed to check out a book for a book club deadline. I looked in my car to see if Ke$ha got stuck under the seat randomly and when I couldn't find it I decided perhaps my kid sister absconded with it.
Then I remembered my kid sister is emo and would never be caught listening to that crap. Hell, I was ashamed to be caught checking it out, let alone stealing it from the library.
Finally, I gave up. I needed to check out more things and I didn't have the damn Ke$ha CD. I showed up with my checkbook and offered to just pay for the phantom "Animal."
Now the twist in our story, I explained the predicament to the librarian I've had since college and she looked at me and said, "Well let's just check the shelf."
Low and behold Ke$ha was hiding in plain sight. Fees averted. New books checked out.
I'm not longer the girl who stole Ke$ha from the library.