An employee of a small town "liberry" chronicles his quest to remain sane while dealing with patrons who could star in a short-lived David Lynch television series.

Monday, November 15, 2004

Menthols or Regular?

Yesterday, someone asked me a question that I have never been asked before in my three years as a "liberry" ass.

One of our computer patrons on Sunday was a guy who resembled a young Ving Rhames in both look and attitude, though with none of Rhames's inherent coolness. And if this guy truly had been a young Ving Rhames, he would have been a young Ving Rhames trying to play the role of an urban gangster wannabe transplanted to small town WV. Badly. This kid had the whole big giant Raw Blue jacket and the tennis-style headband and a cell phone on which he was almost constantly talking. And it was one of those really annoying cell phones with the ear-piece, so I couldn't really tell at first glance whether or not he was talking to, say, me.

After he'd done his computing, he came toward the circ desk, chatting away to someone. I'd heard him chatting while he netted, so I figured he had a cell, but this time he was looking directly at me as he talked so I had to question my assumption.

His conversation went: "Yeah... Yeah... Whatchu mean?... No... Uh huh? Here you go. See you tomorrow." He said this last part after returning the pen he'd borrowed from me earlier and nodded to me as he turned toward the door.

"You taught it a trick, huh?" he said. "What kind of trick did you teach it?"

I deduced from this that he was talking to someone who had a pet dog.

"It smokes? A cigarette?"

Okay, so someone had taught their dog to smoke. I've often accused my cat of bumming loose change to buy smokes too. What of it?

"You're lying! It really smokes?" Ving Rhames said. He had reached the door by then, but turned around and came a few paces back toward me. This was when he hit me with what could be the most unique reference question I will ever be asked...

"Why's this girl telling me she can make her pussy smoke a cigarette?"

I stuck out my lower lip in concentration for a moment, then jovially said, "I don't know."

"Have you ever seen anything like that before? A pussy smoking a cigarette?"

"No," I said. "No, I have not."

Ving Rhames shook his head and left the building, still chatting away.

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