Interesting Tidbit
It all started as I waited in line to use the ladies’ room on a recent trip to a local book store. There was a cork board there advertising people that wanted to car pool, upcoming local concerts, missing items and the like. There was also a sign that stated that “Under no circumstances can any merchandise be taken into these restrooms.”
Wow. I know there was a Seinfeld episode about this phenomenon, but here in little ol’ North Cack-o-lacky? Are there book offenders here? I couldn’t let all of the questions swirl around in my head, so I did the only thing I could. I asked the cashier.
Now some people may think there would be more of a fountain of information if I had taken my inquiries to the manager. After all, I’m sure it was his or her crude hand-lettering on the notice. Anyone, however, that has worked in an environment like this knows that the real knowledge lies in the cranium of the cashier. All of the good gossip and all knowledge of the antics happening on the salesfloor will eventually make its way back behind the counter, like a slithering snake of information.
I spotted the cashier and made my way over. I asked Marla, who I’ve renamed to protect her post-minimum wage earnings potential, about this sign. She said it had been there for about two weeks.
I asked if there were significant incidents to warrant the use of the of the phrase, “under no circumstances”. Where there people who wanted reading material in the toilet so badly that they made up special reasons? “My wife is in labor” may get you out a speeding ticket, but hardly gives reason to accommodate her with a copy of the latest Oprah’s Book Club selection. She indicated that there were indeed people that thought their particular hardship was enough to warrant this bizarre and germ-ridden activity.
The next line of questioning I found particularly interesting. I asked what items were caught in there most often. Topping the list were For Him Magazine (a Playboy wanna-be), and Architectural Digest. I can understand taking in FHM, if only to wipe with in case of lack of toilet paper. Come on, if you’ve ever looked through an issue, you know this is the only acceptable purpose for this particular publication. Arch Digest is an odd choice though. Sure – it’s really expensive, but I don’t know that reading about a restored 19th century farmhouse is going to loosen my large intestine.
An equally odd choice, and sure to make more than one Xangan email me nasty things, is the Bible. Not the type that are left by the well-intentioned Gideons in hotel rooms to make solicitors of hookers feel bad when reaching for their cigarettes, but real, honest-to-God Bibles. Yeah, there was a pun in there. Get over it.
Who needs fiction when the truth is this bizarre?
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