Look at you all red in the face. You act like it’s because of all the laughing you’re doing, but deep down I know the truth. I know it tears you up inside, the thought of people like me with dopy leather ties getting the chance to share this space with you. Oh you with all your special baby stuff, and those tiny little features. Cute? PAH! Weird. That’s right. You’re not fooling this library patron. No siree! I look at you and I see an ugly little bean cackling away at what? A set of keys! FYI baby those keys aren’t even remotely funny. That’s right. They barely even register. I should know. I’ve seen some damn funny keys in my life. Keys that would make your tiny, misshapen head spin. 

Oh, you’re crying now? God, I hate to say it baby, but you’re acting like a real piece of shit. Just flaunting that special treatment around like doesn’t even matter. Do you know what would happen if I started crying right here in the middle of the periodicals? Lots. Lots would happen. But I can tell you one thing, no one would try to shove a tit into my face if fat tears started rolling down my pock marked face. Nope. Not a chance. And that’s the real difference between you and me baby. You get tit and I get zilch. Well you know what I’m going to do? You’re going to love this baby. I’m going to call the authorities. I bet you don’t even know what that means. Well buckle up baby because you’re about to find out… the hard way. I heard a 10 year old got handcuffed last week. You think I’m joking? Look, at this point in pity you. I really do, but you’ve got your whole stinking life ahead of you. You just have to learn that laughing and crying in libraries cannot be tolerated at any age, so deal with it baby and wipe that smile off your face.