Sometimes you get more than you wanted

Let's drink like Diana.

I kicked off the Easter weekend in the company of two fabulous librarian friends and a spectacular Anne of Green Gables Marathon. Did we make it to the finish line? Not quite, but we had fun anyways.

We spent four hours sighing for Gilbert, chuckling at chatterbox Anne, admiring (or mocking) the cut of her dress, and pining for the sandy windswept shores of P.E.I. We drank rasberry cordial (fake) and indulged in egg salad sandwiches and tarts among other delictables. A Good thing to do on Good Friday.

So, back to business, yesterday I worked on Adult Info. and here's what happened:

Older woman approaches desk with lipstick gone wrong, lipstick that has gone beyond the boundaries of her real lips, and has worn away at the centre, giving her a clownish mouth to say the least. Or tartish, depending on your inclination to be charitable.

This is a great, great book.

Do you have anything else by this author?

Oh, what is it about? (this was a MISTAKE)

I am trying to read more non-fiction, and in this area know I have a penchant for female writers, particularly those that focus on travel and world events. Well, ooooh my goodness. The stuff coming out of this woman's mouth made me sweat.

Perspiration.

Clammy hands, I could not stop the stream of utterances.

NervouslyI glanced around to see who else was listening.

Example. Gay Men. Sure as heck don't want to huddle with them in the military. They are good people. But if I was a man, I sure as heck woudn't want to huddle with one.

Example. She begins reading a passage aloud to me. Along the lines of...Girls need permission to get their ears peirced, why don't they need permission for something that is a SIN (hissed loudly) !!? (Reference to abortion)

I cringe.

OOOh. My. Goodness. Neutral responses, eyes frequently averted. Please leave. Please leave now. I am not shocked that she agrees with the author. I am shocked that she thinks I would be sympathetic. That once upon a time, a lot of people would think this, that in many circles, people do still think this.

The moral of the story, is don't ask if you are afraid of what you might hear. And, I need to learn how to politely interrupt. I have this strange reverence for the elderly, no matter what filth they spout. I'm compelled to be the good girl, the listener, the polite person...

Time to break free, right?

I need a drink. Pass me the rasberry cordial, er, red current wine.