Librarians (meaning people from Libraria) are largely an intellectual bunch, often quite geeky, occasionally cool, and socially awkward a majority of the time. The public they serve: mostly the opposite. It’s an interesting dynamic that fuels many a librarian blog, and expedites many a librarian retirement. Being from Libraria, I resemble that description, I write a Libraria blog, and I’m counting the days to my own retirement. (Don’t ask. Too many.) We are liberal in theory, but militant in practice. Some of us are liberal all around, but we number too few to matter. And our patrons, we refer to as the great unwashed.
So when my boss turned in his chair to tell a story about a patron yesterday, I knew it would be funny because often when the librarian and the patron come together, it is quite funny. Additionally, my boss tells the best stories, so it’s usually a treat when he starts one. This was no exception.
He walked downstairs into the Youth Department and saw a woman whose arms were covered in tattoos, from wrist up to shoulder, both arms. Okay, fine, he thought. Whatever.
If he’s anything like me, he’s thinking that’s classless and unattractive, but it’s trendy and at least she isn’t alone in being marred by some asshole’s tattoo gun. I don’t know what he thought, actually because he breezed right over that part. That wasn’t the pertinent part of her anatomy.
The woman bent over to use a computer and her shirt slid up her back, revealing another tattoo where her ass meets her torso.
I immediately said, “Oh, of course. A tramp stamp.” Obviously someone with sleeves of tattoos would have a tramp stamp.
Nay. I totally underestimated the value of the story here.
She did have a tramp stamp tattoo, but it was the ultimate tramp stamp! The trampiest stamp of all!
She had handprints tattooed just above her ass cheeks. Handprints. Like a left and right hand on her lower back from being in a position behind her.
That was funny, but what was funnier was thinking about my boss innocently walking into the CHILDRENS’ AREA to see a woman with handprints tattooed on her lower back. Imagine the shock on his face! Remember, he’s a librarian, so multiply that by 5.
He then walked over to the Youth Desk and asked about the lady at the computer, probably with a disturbed look upon his mug. The girls gushed about the lady, how cute her kids are, how wonderful, etc., etc. Perhaps they didn’t know she likes to advertise her preference for doggie style. I don’t know, but they really liked her. Honestly, that takes balls and I kinda liked her myself.
My boss asked us, holding up two hands with a horrified face, “Handprints? Is that like dance instructions?”
I believe there was drool escaping from my lips as I laughed so hard for so long that my cheeks began to cramp up on me.
He continued, with no regard for my ability to breathe, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look her in the eye again.”
I looked up briefly and said, “I don’t think that’s how she likes … never mind!” And I crashed my forehead back onto the desk to laugh even more.
This didn’t seem as if it would end because he added, “But the hands, they were so big for her frame! They seemed…too big.”
All I could think of was, you know what they say about the size of a man’s hands, but thankfully I didn’t utter it.
When the general public and the folks from Libraria come together, it’s always interesting.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
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1 comment:
OK, you've trumped me. Nothing in my experience can beat this.
Going back to my corner to sulk (and giggle).
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