He Never Returns My Calls Anymore

Since I work in the Donnell Library, it is common knowledge that my most famous co-worker is the original Winnie-the-Pooh. Every day flocks of Winnie-hungry tourists converge at my Children's Room to stare in open worship at the Pooh. Our Guest Book, I've been amused to find, is 50% British statements along the lines of "Bring Him Home!!!". The Australians comments seek to counter the Brits by writing, "No! Leave Him Here!". But since the Brits were the ones who gave us Winnie in the first place, we ignore their pleas.

All this attention, undoubtedly, has gone to Pooh's little fuzzy head. And now, to cap it all off, he's earned himself a star on the Hollywood walk of fame. Now he hardly ever deigns to talk to me in the mornings. He keeps getting my name wrong and when I walk by he looks up with a vaguely confused expression as if to say, "Do you work here?". I've been here for four months already and he STILL can't remember me. But I guess that's just the price you pay when you have a celebrity in your midst.