Friday, August 18, 2006

Spite, seething spite

I go to the library the Friday before classes start, thinking, rightly, that there will be few souls therein. And then, when in the library, to evade even these few souls, I find an abandoned study area on the third floor, perfect isolation, and begin reading.

And then, I kid thee not, two people come and sit DIRECTLY behind me, in a huge room. I could reach out and touch them where I not so filled with disgust by there very presence. They then proceed to have a conversation. CONVERSATION.

Finally, they stop talking. And then begins the hacking. Evidently this girl is a smoker. And not just wussy Marlboro lights or whatever--no. This girl must smoke unfiltered sticks of PURE COAL, forged in hells furnace, right next to where they make the Segways. She has that hack that says "come on, gimme one more, I promise, this next hack will finally disgorge whatever is remaining of my blackened lungs and then I'll be queit. Just one more. HACK-ACK-AAAACK-GRRLLGUMPH. Come on, gimme one more..." And then again and again. Whatever she's got stuck down there its big, and its coming.

Yep, there it is! A chimney sweep scampers past my legs, covered in black dust and dripping, tar-like phlegm. The girl lunges for him and grabs, but she can't get a firm grip on his slimey oil-slick body. The little urchin easily wrenches himself free and is gone.


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