There is something uniquely absurd about waiting weeks—or months—for a digital library book. Anyone who has used Libby knows the feeling: a tap on «place hold,» followed by a notification that you’re somehow number 112 in line for a file that does not physically exist. No wear and tear. No coffee stains. Just vibes and scarcity. And yet, library holds remain one of the few systems in modern life that still prioritize fairness over speed, money, or entitlement.

You wait your turn, and then you get the book. That’s how it works.

In one small town, though, a single patron quietly took advantage of the system. The town’s only public library is already stretched thin by budget cuts, shorter hours, and a donation jar that’s always out. Even so, the library still manages to offer plenty of new releases, thanks to a local donor who pays for new books.

That’s where Derek comes in.

Derek acted like the New Arrivals shelf was his own subscription service. As soon as a popular book showed up, he’d arrive with his tote bag, grab everything from the front row, and later post online about «supporting literacy.» He kept renewing the books, sometimes for weeks. Since the library’s system lets you renew automatically unless someone else places a hold, Derek could keep the books as long as he wanted. In a small town where most people didn’t bother with holds, no one stopped him.

The staff noticed, and so did the regulars. One librarian even sighed when someone asked about a missing book and said, «Derek has it. Again.»

Rather than confronting him, a few readers decided to use the system as it was meant to be used.