Wednesday, June 14, 2006

From the Library 

Image hosted by Photobucket.comA woman who sounded loaded called and wanted to know if we had Deepak Chopra's Overcoming Addictions. It was 10:00 in the morning.

A disheveled, wide-eyed woman ran up to the desk and shrieked, “Someone poured acid on my lips! There's a woman trying to kill me in the library. My lips! They’re buuuuurning!” She clutched the edge of the desk and rocked her body back and forth. My colleague, not even glancing up from some papers he was reading, nonchalantly raised his hand and pointed toward the security office. “Ma’am, you'll need to tell security.” She staggered off in that direction. Oddly enough, the woman did have chapped, ruined lips, but my bet would be more the result from an overheated glass crack pipe than from an acid wielding assailant.

“I've got to read some Scientology. But I can't read. They won't let me use the tape recorders because I don't have a library card. Isn't that a violation of my civil rights?”

A bag lady dragging her belongings in trash bags set them down by the desk. After rooting around in them for a minute, she pulled a grimy bundle of papers. “I have here a list of 150 names of celebrities, religious and, political figures. You find me their addresses.”
“You’ll need to go to the business desk. They have directories and they’ll show you how to look the names and addresses up.”
“I don’t want to have to go to another desk! You find them for me.”
“I’m sorry, but this is just a basic information desk.” He pointed to the line that was forming behind her. “I don’t have time to help you with such an involved project, but the librarians upstairs will. You’ll need to go to that department.”
She whipped around, balled her fists and began screaming, "He's refusing me service! He's refusing me service!”

An aging belle floated toward the desk. She was wearing a low cut diaphanous, pastel dress and looked like she had just stepped out of some Southern Gothic flashback. Tragically, her mind seemed as ravaged as her décolletage. She shared some décor suggestions. “This would be a perfect spot for a fountain or waterfall, right in the center of the foyer area. I think that it would give the entire place - which is rather cold and institutional, don’t you agree? - an everglade jungle appeal. A wishing well would be another idea for a tourist attraction and would give this place a nice, overall tropical jungle look. Yes, that would make it quite a field trip attraction. I also think formal high teas in the cafeteria would be a real draw, that they would bring in a more elevated crowd. Then if you would throw in a tropical rain setting with lots of greenery, plants and shrubbery, large, exotic flowers like a botanical garden, some piped in music tapes of birds singing, water and other relaxing sorts of noises, or just music piped in over the loudspeakers to add to the overall ambiance… Well, I think it would make this place so lovely, don’t you agree?”

A woman called, “What is all of the blood spilled in Iraq doing to the earth there?”
I’m not sure if this was a rhetorical question, if she was just calling to make some sort of political point, and was trying to drag us into a discussion, but I almost told her that I imagine that all that blood would be fertilizing the earth. especially if it's mixed with all of the nitrogen IED's, which probably by now is now enough to return that desert to the conditions when it was known as the Fertile Crescent. I had always heard that the blood soaked fields of Verdun and Shiloh produced bumper crops for years after battles were fought there. Confusing the matter, however, was that the patron had a thick Romanian accent, which made me think - vampire? My colleague transferred her to the science desk.

Your assumption about the Romanian and the blood cracked me up. Smartass lol.
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