Vassar’s library is an institution on campus, an iconic sight along the world-famous and instantly recognizable Poughkeepsie skyline. And although a library is a place to answer questions, something about this library raises more questions than answers. First and foremost: Why so many books? Where do they all come from? Second and secondmost: Is there really a giant monster deep within the library basement that eats people who don’t move to the 24-hour section after midnight? These questions must be answered, and I decided that I was the investigative journalist to answer them. To demystify the library’s many mysteries, I spent months deep undercover as a librarian.
The first step in my library infiltration involved coming up with a clever disguise and code name. I bought a bright purple wig from Party City and thrifted some sunglasses and a fake mustache. I also perfected my British accent lest my voice be recognized. Lastly, I came up with a bookish code name so nobody would doubt my presence in the library. Thus, my alter ego, Josie B. Reading, was born.
On the first day of my sting operation, I sneakily tiptoed into the library so as not to raise any suspicion. Once inside, I casually sauntered up to the front desk and inquired about open librarian positions. They told me there weren’t any. This raised my suspicions. I demanded that they give me a job, and shook my fist at them in a threatening manner. I was promptly escorted from the premises. I then sat down to write a notes app apology, accompanied by an apology video in which I cried, sang an apology song and begged for a job. Fortunately, my endeavor was successful, and I was hired as a basement librarian with the caveat that I never, ever, ever sing at work.
My plan of action was going swimmingly thus far. My first assignment as basement librarian was to reshelve a bunch of books. Boring. I haphazardly threw the books on a random shelf, and as I was finished with my work, decided to go exploring. I chose to investigate the biggest question I had about the library: Where do all the books come from? I wandered down hallways and corridors, taking careful care to avoid the upstairs because basement librarians aren’t allowed on the main floor. I observed students reading, students writing and students napping, but above all, I observed books. So many books.
Suddenly, I heard loud thuds and creaking noises coming from the wall to my right. I slyly crept down an aisle and found a bookshelf slightly ajar. I used my brute strength to push the bookshelf aside, revealing that it was in fact a hidden door! I gasped and decided to venture deeper into the depths. At the end of the secret passageway, I came across a wizened old man hunched over a desk. It was Frederick Thompson Memorial!
The library’s namesake put down his quill pen with shock. I explained who I was and the purpose of my investigation. He then told me about how he copies each and every book by hand, drinking 17 Redbulls a day to keep up with the demand. Memorial lives in the little tower on top of the Deece, so he has a quick commute to work, and there’s nothing he loves more than his job.
I bade Mr. Memorial well and continued on my trek through the basement. As I was walking through the periodicals, I came across a strange doorway lined with mysterious symbols. I chose to ignore the plot of every horror movie ever and walked through the doorway, where I came across a fearsome beast. The rumors were true! There is a monster that eats people who don’t move to the 24-hour section after midnight, and boy was she scary. She had big teeth as long as my arm, evil eyes as big as my head and a scaly body several times larger than me. She fiercely roared at me, and I grabbed a conveniently-placed sword off the ground and waved it at her. I ducked, dodged and weaved her attacks, and after a long, grueling battle I stabbed my sword into her head.
Upon freeing the library from the tyranny of the people-eating monster, I bravely strolled back to the circulation desk. My boss screamed when she saw my blood-soaked appearance, and groaned when I said I had slayed the beast. Apparently she was an endangered species. Whoops. I was swiftly fired from the basement librarian position and asked to please never come back, which I have to obey under the court order. But trust: It’ll be a long time before the library forgets the name Josie B. Reading.