Years ago, I sometimes thought librarian would be something for me but then one night a ghastly vision engulfed me: a little snotty wizard kid struggling in vain to come alive in an ocean of putrid 'prose' and dumb people (you know, the average human being) asking me all day long about when's it available? when's that one coming out? when's it coming back? can I reserve it? it's a great book, eh? my son wants to be just like him ... oh, how terrible this witchcraft spoils our youth (there was this ugly visage of a grizzled old lady brandishing a cane and wearing a Salvation-Army uniform), I want you to immediately remove this offensive title from your stock; and the middle-aged balding man asking for the adult cover edition -- and that was the end of my 'thinking about becoming a librarian days.' I just can't bear to think about shelf upon shelf of half-rotting Harry Snotter behemoths despoiling the air and sharing the same building with Tolstoy. Inconceivable!