Go live in a barn, already!
Feb. 2nd, 2009 10:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsThis afternoon on the way home I stopped by the library to drop off a book. As I wandered the shelves, looking for something else to pick up, a man in front of me swung a hard left around a short stack of reference works and a bottle of soda, loosely secured, fell and spilled a splatter of brown sugar water up the aisle. He looked at it, looked at me, shrugged, and walked on, tightening the lid as he went.
I could not believe it. It was not as if he gave the impression of being a homeless man come to the library for warmth and the lavatory. His backpack was relatively new and an expensive brand, his clothes were clean, and he left no stench in his wake. He was slightly older than I am, and yet he was completely without manners.
I informed the librarian of the mess, and she said she'd have someone come clean it up.
I ultimately declined everything; I still have a history of 19th century princesses to plow through for my next Yowler story.
I could not believe it. It was not as if he gave the impression of being a homeless man come to the library for warmth and the lavatory. His backpack was relatively new and an expensive brand, his clothes were clean, and he left no stench in his wake. He was slightly older than I am, and yet he was completely without manners.
I informed the librarian of the mess, and she said she'd have someone come clean it up.
I ultimately declined everything; I still have a history of 19th century princesses to plow through for my next Yowler story.
