Annals of the Ludicrous

Yesterday something strange happened to my co-worker Telexiana (For anonymity’s sake I slightly alter her name here). A woman approached the circulation counter with her books and pulled out her library card. As Telexiana (hereafter referred to simply as T.) reached for the card, she was suddenly seized by a hoarse cough; she turned, courteously, and hacked into the empty air behind her. When she turned back to take the card, the woman quickly pulled away.

“Your hands are dirty.”

Her hands had been at her side: they were anything but dirty. Incensed at this woman’s juvenile behavior, T. bent forward and pulled out a heavy container of Germex and, in front of the woman, slapped a large portion into her palm and slowly slathered it over her hands.

The woman’s demeanor was indignant as she handed over her library card. But T. did not seem too concerned about the woman’s unpleasant predicament.

“Maybe next time I’ll save the effort of being polite and just cough in her face," she said later.