(I’m the director of our small-town library. One of my summer volunteers is a sixteen-year-old girl who is diabetic. She works the lunch shift, and I allow her to eat her lunch at the checkout counter.)

Patron: *to the volunteer* “Hey, can you tell me if you have this book?” *hands over a sheet of paper*

Volunteer: *putting fork down* “Yes. It’s over here. I’ll go get it for you.”

(She walks away. I notice the lady at the desk sniffing the air. She looks around, clearly sees me staring at her, and proceeds to take a large bite of my volunteer’s food. She obviously doesn’t like it, and takes a large container of something out of her purse and dumps it all over the food. She takes another bite, and looks satisfied.)

Volunteer: *coming back* “Here’s your… wait. Why are you eating my lunch?”

Patron: “It was a free sample. And I must say, whoever made it is a terrible cook. It’s very tasteless. I have to put my entire container of salt on this to make it edible!”

Volunteer: “That was my lunch. I’m a diabetic, so of course it wouldn’t taste very good!”

Me: “Ma’am, you just ate her lunch. Why?”

(As I am talking the volunteer scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it to me. It says, ‘Ignore what I’m about to do.’ She then falls to the ground, shaking and convulsing.)

Patron: “Oh, s***!” *runs out of the library*

Volunteer: “I learned how to do that to get my brothers in trouble.”

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