One Crazy Day In The Santa Monica Library

I'm in the Santa Monica library right now and, let me tell you, this is quite the treat. Barnum and Bailey would be jealous. Or disgusted. It's a fine line.

I am here because it is quiet and they have a free wireless connection, that's the beauty of the library (aside from all the books, of course). As an added bonus, this branch of the library also has the most rancid homeless smells one could ever hope to find. Assuming one were actually looking. Which I direly hope one weren't.

There's a lady (or at least I think it's a lady) that is sitting right across from me. She has a goatee. I do not shit you. And I'm not talking about a few sprinklings of hair like a reject from the Chin Hair Club for Men. I'm talking full-on goatee. Hairy, please-borrow-my-Atra goatee. It's repulsive. Don't they have, like, electrolysis or something to take care of that?

Then there's the homeless guy who walked in and picked up the globe. It's a very large globe - about 2 feet in diameter. He's lifted up the globe and, like the sad, drug addicted brother of Atlas, he is standing there and staring at it. Not rotating the globe. Not looking for anything in particular on the globe. Just staring straight ahead with the big globe in front of his face as if he were trying to hide behind the world. It's tough to hide from the world by hiding behind the world. Kinda defeats the whole purpose.

Now he put down the globe, sat at a table and is staring at the woman sitting across from him. And when I say sitting across, I mean something like a mere 18 inches away. I'll be shocked if she doesn't pull out a bottle of mace any moment now and fry his ass right here in the public library.

Oh and lookee over there, there's a guy in a sport coat and slacks who keeps pacing. I barely noticed him before because he looks so normal. One would think he's normal. At first glance I thought he was normal. But then you'd look down and, in a moment directly out of The Birdcage, you see that he's wearing socks that are a shade of pink so bright they could light up a dark library. And suddenly you know he is far from normal. Suddenly he belongs.

Wait wait wait!!! In just walked a 127 year old man wearing black velour workout pants that are pulled up so high they may soon be confused for a turtle neck. Accompanying those fashionable velour wonders he's got on a dress shirt straight from the Target catalog, circa 1973. He clearly forgot his Oxygen cannister cause I can still see the tan stains on his upper lip where the plastic little wahoosis gets shoved up his nose. He just walked by me and I could probably use something shoved up my nose right about now. Mr. Velour smells so bad I think I might yack on the pacer's flourescent pink socks.

Oh lookee, now mr. asian guy is about to sit down next to me and it looks like he hasn't washed his hair since Kaja Goo Goo had a hit song.

As if that weren't enough, there's the British woman who's about 65 years old with her son who's about 3. How come all British boys are named Johnny? All she keeps saying - in a rather loud British accent - is, not now Johnny. Wait a minute Johnny. Come here Johnny. We have to find the book Johnny.

You know what? FUCK Johnny. And while we're at it, why don't you use your motherflippin inside voice. In fact, just check out the goddam book and get the hell out of my library. Go get a crumpet or something.

Oooh... Pat just walked in. He/she is about 6 foot 5 and weighs about 90 pounds. Which in itself is disgusting but leads me to the anorexic blonde that I haven't even mentioned yet. Probably because she's so thin I haven't noticed her walking back and forth.

I think I'm going to throw up.

OH MY GOD!! A cross-eyed guy just walked in the door! He's CROSS-EYED!!! Honest injun.

This is unreal.
Am I being punk'd?