Memoirs of a Pathological Liar

So, when I work in the Gelman Library computer lab, there is a desk to the left when you walk in. Kind of a private cubicle that seems designed for a friendly but hushed receptionist. Instead of sitting in the barracks & typing next to dozens of people who are mostly surfing youtube & facebook & blogger (damn them all), I sit at the perpetually-vacant reception desk. This means green freshmen often wander up to me awkwardly & ask tech-questions. In the beginning, I would cut them off & explain "I don't work here." The way you must if you oops-a-daisically wear a red t-shirt & khakis to Target. But now, after months staking out this cubicle, I answer their questions. I fake it. I often direct them to tech services. But never do I let on that I. Do. Not. Work. Here. This is my fake work gig. My chance to be a librarian - a childhood dream. And like most of my jobs, the pay & benefits suck. But seeing the relief on faces of aimless young people brings me joy. That and deceiving an entire population of people.