Noisy Stupidity

June 6, 2008 by Keli.

After my last post, I suffered a pang of guilt. All because of my confession that I was a wayward volunteer, slacking in my duties at the local public library. I decided to change my ways. To set a good example for my 3.5 readers.

I went in to the library yesterday and did a fine impression of the brightest, shiniest, best volunteer ever. I slipped on rubber gloves and climbed atop a mountain-high pile of filthy book bags and barely took a breath until I’d checked in each and every stained and finger-print smudged book. I did pause once to read a sentence or two from this, just in case…

Please don’t get me wrong. I’m a huge fan of the library. To prove it, afterwards, I proceeded to shelf all the books I’d checked in. Aren’t you duly impressed?

During my busy, hard-working fifty-five and one-half minutes (my limit is one hour before I blow), I did, unfortunately, witness stupidity. Keep in mind, as noted last time, that this library is small. About the size of 50 Cent’s walk-in closet (I know; I saw it on Cribs).

As I started shelving audio books, a blasphemous screeching shook the place, making quite a racket; shredding the curtain of quietude that typically fell over the library. I briefly considered taping the clamor, getting a patent and peddling it to hospitals for use during complex surgery. It would be a perfect replacement for anesthesia. Patients could be knocked out without medication or brute force.

The cause of such clamor? Not a stuper (short, as you know, for a recognizably stupid person) exactly, though a stuper was behind it all. A sixteen-month-old pushed an antiquated, long overdue-for-retirement, step-stool whose dysfunctional wheels cried bloody murder, like it carried all the world’s woes on its seat. The toddler pushed it slowly, but purposefully around, making sure everyone heard its pain, even in Detroit. The clatter made fingernails scratching across a blackboard sound like a soothing lullaby.

Meanwhile, the tot’s mom sat nearby, huddled behind a computer, throwing a furtive glance now and then to see if anyone appeared on the verge of hysteria. If not, she’d continue reading, and if yes, then she’d send out a feeble,

“Mikaela, stop….”

Annoyed people milled about, wondering to whom the little noise-maker belonged and pondering the course of action to take.

The Head Librarian, smiled uncomfortably, realizing it rested on her shoulders to take appropriate action and restore peace.

“Boy, do those wheels need oiling!” she said as she assisted irritable patrons.

Before I could holler, “Somebody grab that kid!” another volunteer, a ten-year-old young man, took charge. This kid embodied the very voice of common sense. He marched up to the little girl, folded his arms across his chest, frowned sternly and announced,

“You shouldn’t be doing that!”

He stood in front of the stool so the little girl couldn’t budge. Apparently, she hadn’t learned to go in reverse. Mikaela looked up at him, then turned her head to seek out her mother. Mom, realizing all angry eyes set upon her, nervously grabbed the kid and left.

No one said anything to this woman; consequently she saw no reason to take action. To her, the step stool seemed like a harmless and effective baby-sitter. Sometimes, stupers won’t take action unless forced to. This could take awhile. In situations like this one, shushing is okay and generally does the job. It helps if you happen to be carrying a baseball bat.

Think.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Plain Old Fashioned Stupidity | 5 Comments »