Just when I thought it would be a humdrum week after the holiday lull, we had a small surprise waiting for us in the men’s restroom at closing tonight.
It’s not like we haven’t had “small surprises” before. You know, the usual stuff: feces in the urinal, shredded toilet paper all over the floor, a flood from a stopped up toilet, vomit from a child “who didn’t quite make it,” and so forth. But the surprise tonight was a lulu: in the handicap accessible stall of the men’s room were four ladies’ thongs.
At first discovery, my mind raced. What could have happened here? Were there really four teenage (or older) girls in the men’s room stall? What were they doing? No. Oh come on, could we have missed that kind of a party? Did they actually have sex in there? No. Come on. Not possible, right? Right?
And of course, in the meeting room tonight we had a special program, Emily Dickinson Live!, with a local performer. We had a huge crowd of people who don’t normally come to the library. How many of our male guests went into the restroom to discover female underwear on the floor? How long were those thongs in there? No one mentioned it, but then, what would a fellow say? “Ahem, pardon me, but there are four pairs of ladies’ underwear in the men’s room and by all appearances, it looks like whoever had them on was in a hurry to take them off.” Sigh.
Maybe our culprits were the two elementary school aged boys who rushed into the men’s room at the last minute before we closed? But where did they get skimpy girls underwear? Did they steal them from their sisters’ dresser in order to drop them into the four corners of the men’s room stall? That’s a stretch.
All right, I confess, we gave up after two or three scenarios. It must have been a set up… a joke. Right?
… At least, we hope so…. What do you think?