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Wednesday, December 24, 2008

A lump of coal and a switch 

A boy, 8 years old according to his record, called the library to renew his books. He was telling me his library card when I heard his mother call to him in the background. I don't like it when people try to talk to me when I'm trying to use the phone, but telling one's mother, who was only trying to help, to shut the hell up on Christmas Eve is really asking for a big lump of coal and a switch in the next morning.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Bum's Rush 

Bum's Rush
There’s a vegetarian restaurant in town that is owned and operated by a Hare Krishna like religious sect that let’s just say has made its way on the list of several cult watch groups. The restaurant’s walls are decorated with photographs of the group’s charismatic leader performing humanly impossible feats of strength, or posing with Mother Theresa and Princess Di, or holding forth before crowds of thousands. The female followers who work in the restaurant are mostly white bread hippy types, but wear saris, bindis and long, braided hair. They all float around the restaurant with blissful, blank smiles that can only come from serious protein deficiency and/or the consequences of taking 2000 or so acid trips back in their heyday. It’s rumored that back at the compound they all live in stark, sexually segregated barracks. Celibacy is required of the followers, but some apostates reported that the Leader would invite some of the younger, attractive women back to his private chamber for grueling all night performances of girl on girl action. I also notice that at the restaurant the women seemed to be doing most of the hard labor around the restaurant. Needless to say, this restaurant is completely cash driven.
I occasionally go there because options are limited around here and they make a decent salad. The last time I was there seated I was suddenly overcome with the smell of open sewage and Ripple. I looked up and a wino was shuffling slowly past me toward the bathroom, his pants completely and utterly soaked with diarrhea. All of the diners were choking. I was afraid that the restaurant would be all welcoming and compassionate but instead one of the workers ordered him out immediately. "Go to the library, brother! We are not equipped to deal with that." He thrust some napkins into the wino’s hands and shoved him out the door. He then lit some incense which of course they had on hand and the smell slowly dissipated. Although I was grateful to finish my meal, I wasn’t too happy about the staff directing the man to the library, because we certainly aren’t equipped to deal with that mess either. We certainly don’t need that kind of ‘business', especially when there are plenty of shelters within walking distance which are. This is the kind of bio mess that makes our custodial staff have to go out on stress leave.

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