the smack factor

I made it to the Mid Manhattan Branch of the NY public library system.  Not for long though.  I’m low on patience today as it is, so it only took a few minor mishaps to send me packing for home again.   the first thing was the lovely… fellow at the information desk.  I approached and immediately knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, as I was interrupting his breakfast sandwich.  Holy rudeness.  I can’t even begin to explain.  He made me feel like I should never have wanted a library card – and when he threatened decapitation upon loss of the card, I knew I was in the danger biblioteque.  I take the escalator to the second floor and then hop onto the elevator to hit the 4th floor, which has outlets and all that good stuff for laptops.  As I stood rifling around my sack I heard:

“m mm   ma’am, excuse me ma’am” – a scrawny crackhead approacheth

I slowly glance up from my phone so as not to be rude to a library person who is maybe coming over to tell me no cellphones are allowed.  My eyes unfortunately found a friend in the scrawny crackhead.

“mmmm ma’am, I don’t mmmm mean to bbb bbbb *snort* shuffle *skcrunk* , do you have any lotion to spare?” – apparently a moisturizer fan.  It did not go unnoticed by me that his hands were fiddling in his pants.

“WHAT?” – me, thinking there is no way someone is panhandling for lotion.

“Ddd you have any lotion to spare” – dry and flakey oddball

“Nnooo.” – me, disdainfully looking back down at my phone.  I hear him move on to the woman at the desk parallel to me, who REACHES IN HER BAG and grabs some lotion.  She squirts it in his hand and says :

“It’s a little greasy” as he skitters of to the bathroom!  Way to enable a public selfie, lady.   I quickly moved to a different table.  and of course, as soon as I sat down, my stomach got a little weird.  Ok, more than a little weird – it got painful and squaffy.  I took all my crap to the bathroom with me and perched next to the toilet paper monster.  The toilet paper roll was unravelling feverishly next to me accompanied by grunting and groaning and angry… wiping.  I couldn’t concentrate on my … time… because the woman in the next stall was so LOUD.  That and the sign on the door said “Women are dirty bitches” had me all discombobulated.  I walk out of the stall and there is a zombie woman supporting good dental health.  And by that I mean, her eyes were fixed on my door as I came out and she had a maroon dental floss wand in her hand, which she was wrapping with pink floss.  Grunty woman appeared, slinking out of her toilet with about 8 bags.  Maybe full of poop.

I took my bags and left.  Fast.  Book dust poofed up behind me as I ran for the elevator.  I got in and hammered away at the floor 1 button.   Augh! The elevator stopped at the second floor and in came Pig Pen from Charlie Brown.  As I looked past his body odor cloud, I saw that the library was teeming with vagrants, degenerates, and snarling bag ladies.  The door closed, ensnaring my world in a cloud of urine and a badly unwashed body.  The sweat bomb leaned in front of me and pointed at the #1 button.  He leaned and missed, leaned and missed.  I walked away and as far as I know, he’s still in there trying to push the button for floor one, which is what we were already on.

I arrived home happy to be free of the library, but again derailed from my goal.  I think I’m just afraid.