The Day of the Bodily Functions of Others (and one of my own, actually):

I was shelving some mysteries, over in the alcove, perpendicular to the non-fiction videos. I was content, even sort of whistling, because that area is generally pretty quiet and the old ladies who cruise the serial mysteries always ooh and ahh over my purple hair. I bent over just as a rather pasty gentleman came around the corner. I recognized him from 10 minutes before, when he leaned rather ominously over me and said:

"Action. I want ACTION."

"Excuse me?" I replied, attempting to keep my panic in check.

"Videos. Action videos."

"Oh, certainly, let me show you where they are." Thank god. But still, even in a public place with security officers trolling the waters, women never like to be hovered over by random men, especially while they are in a submissive position.

So here he was, index finger out, pointing at each scarred video case and muttering before moving on to the next one.

I've found it best to just work around people who talk to themselves. I never intervene unsolicited. So I kept shelving the 'Mc' stack of books on the bottom shelf and acted like he wasn't freaking me out.

He bent over to read the navel level shelf, and as he did so, his butt waggled into position not 15 inches from my face. Before I could straighten up and move, liking my personal space unmarred by even my closest friends, the guy let out a long chain-saw fart, that, through my germ-phobic tinted glasses, blasted me on the left side of my face, tainting the air in my mouth, nostrils, ear, and hair.

Gathering up my pile of unshelved books and holding my breath, I rushed to the relative safety of my book truck. I decided to hit the staff area for a quick decontamination. I stopped briefly to flip a chair up that had been leaning at an angle against the reading table. Then I realized WHY the chair had been placed that way.

As I pulled back, I noticed that the seat was covered in a clearish liquid that had puddled in the center of the seat. Now my hand was not only farted upon, but possibly soaked in urine as well.

Not wanting to do a definitive sniff test to be sure, I locked myself in the nearest bathroom and scrubbed my skin with liquid soap until I was chapped.

An hour later, while I was flitting around the basement pulling books from the closed stacks, the tack that holds my lip ring together came loose and floated around in my mouth.

I panicked and hit the bathroom again, trying desperately to get the tiny grooves to fit together. Anyone who has tried to do this themselves will tell you that it's like trying to thread a needle in a haystack. I had to call upon another coworker to come over and basically perform oral surgery. She had her hands in my mouth for several minutes. Which was fine with me, but I'm sure the other people in the room were wondering what the hell we were doing.

When I started working at the library, I thought there would be a 'certain quiet dignity' to it. Yeah right.