Saturday, November 15, 2008


You indicate that I still have the book Havana Nocturne checked out. It was originally due Nov. 2nd, but I put it in the return bin outside of the library on October 24 at about 8:10 a.m. I remember it clearly because a homeless man was throwing up right next to it (yuck!)

Like those in the dentistry, law enforcement and proctology professions, we hear a lot of bad and outrageous lies at the library, but this email had the ring of truth to it and sure enough, the book had not been scanned correctly and was sitting on the shelf.

Saturday, November 08, 2008

Any Given Sunday 

A man, one of those filthy, wild eyed street prophets so common in this city, marched into one of the sleepier branches in the system dragging a young woman behind him. She was considerably younger than he was, and seemed dreamy and out of it. This is a branch patronized principally by acid burnouts on disability, throwaway kids and various other drop outs and casualties of the Summer of Love. He asked for the key to the bathroom and pulled his companion into the bathroom with him. After a minute or so the sounds of their ‘lovemaking’ began to fill the library. Even the catatonic homeless began to stir and look quizzically about, just like the patients in Awakenings after they received L-Dopa. A staff person raced over and began kicking the door and threatening to call the police. A minute or two later they emerged, and the man began running around the library yelling, “I just had sex with my child bride! I just had sex with my child bride!” He did a couple of laps and then ran out the door, abandoning his child bride, who then sat down to wait in line for the internet.

This happened on a Sunday, which reminds me of a story my cousin told me. He was in college and a bunch of his friends were sitting around and one of them began to describe how his family had returned from church one day to find their yardman doing something unspeakable (i.e., sexual) on the lawn. One of the girls in the group, an inoccent from lower Alabama, opened her eyes in horror. "On a SUNDAY?," she gasped. Like that was the offensive part of the story, like any other day of the week would have been more acceptable for such perversions.

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