X-Delivery-Notice:  SMTP MAIL FROM does not correspond to sender.
Newsgroups: bit.listserv.words-l
Date:         Wed, 9 Sep 1992 23:41:00 EDT
From:         Gilbert Smith <N567126@NCSUADM.ACS.NCSU.EDU>
Subject:      WHTMITL1
Comments: To: English Language Discussion Group <words-l@UGA.CC.UGA.EDU>

What Happened To Me In The Library 1
-------------------------------------------------
1)  So, given the unpleasant task of supplying the <authentic>
history of Agnes von Krusenstjerna, I make my way to the D. H.
Hill Library of North Carolina State University, armed with the
few notes that I have<gleaned> from the net concerning the
von Pahlen novels and the murky biographical details of this
novelist who met a rather unpleasant fate.
.
2)  At the information desk, asking for some directions about
where I should search for information about writers in Stockholm
around the turn of the century, and about church practices in the
same city and the privacy of confessional booths, and about the
political relations between Sweden and Portugal, the attendant
inquires about my status at the university, after making some
remarks  about having seen me on television teaching mathematics
or "something."
.
3) Suppressing my desire to put this young man <in his place>,
limiting my response to an under-the-breath comment to the effect
that I don't look or act like a *mathematics* person, I fumble
with the cards in my billfold only to see them slip from the
counter and fall on the floor.  The young woman standing next to
me, dressed in a mini-mini black satin skirt and beige panty-hose
and blouse made of a large scarf tied tightly around her very
flat chest, leans  down to pick up my cards, revealing to all
the researches present her very slender buttocks clothed only
in beige gossamer.  She hands  me my cards with that look-at-me
dont-look-at-me-you-pig sort of feminist hostility that hooks me
every time.  Then, she walks  away, thinking better of waiting for
the attendant to fulfill her request for a new library card,
tottering clumsily on very high heels.  I will,  I suspect,   see
more of her before I <get to the bottom> of the mystery of Agnes
going to meet her <Maker> in the sewers of Stockholm.
.
4)  Examining my card with little interest (until the young
feminist was out of sight), then checking the computerized listings,
the young man (whom I will call George for the lack of a better
name) informs me that I have two books overdue and cannot receive
any aid from the Library until I have returned the books.  "Has
anyone requested these books?"  I ask rationally.  "No, but they
are overdue, and we like to know where all our books are.  That is
*what* *we* *do* *here*."   "Do you mind if I just look around in
this, *my* library?"  "Help yourself, professor, but don't make
any trouble.  You're on tv, right?"
.
5)  So, I move toward the reference room with its hundreds of
dictionaries and encyclopedias, wondering whether to check the
listings for Sweden, or Portugal, or Armenia, or Church Practices,
or Sewer Systems, when I am suddenly confronted with the need to
visit the <rest> room.  Turning the corner of the hall that leads
to the room marked MEN, I see my feminist friend, glancing over her
shoulder furtively as she pushes the door of the men's room and
disappears inside.  I have a sudden flash of recognition of something
from another life....   Agnes entering the sewer, intent on meeting
her fate <head-on>, dressed in her finest lace.
....................intermission...........................
--ggs
Comments: Gated by NETNEWS@AUVM.AMERICAN.EDU