Tales From The Circ Side

The Question

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At the library, part of my job description revolves around inquiry. I love to ask questions, and I love to be asked questions. However there are times that the questions are somewhat off the wall or mirth inducing, Why, just last week a man called to inquire about our children's programs. I responded to his query by launching into my standard response of what encompasses story time: stories, songs, and crafts. His reply still causes me amused bafflement:

"Did you say you teach the kids craps?"

"No sir, we do not teach the kids gambling dice games, I said crafts with an F." I replied kindly.

Today though, I received a question that helped make a slow Wednesday pass with a bit more inner joy.

Our library branch is located right next to an elementary school. At around three P.M. our tranquil knowledge haven becomes a raucous gathering place for our local youth. As it is now spring and the weather is somewhat nice, the park bench by the front door is often adorned with a bunch of preteens. They spend their after school hours preening about and gazing vacantly into their smartphones, often emitting no small amount of amused giggles as someone shares something randomly stupid or slightly inappropriate.

On Wednesday the bench was occupied by a gaggle of fifth grade girls. Honestly, I was pleased that it was the girls, because that meant that there would be no rocks dropped into the drop-box that day. My co-worker had departed for his break and I had settled into the one office chair at the circ desk, for it was rather quiet that day, even the after school rush was more subdued than normal. As I sat in the chair researching yogurt cultures for an upcoming class that I am going to teach, I felt a presence manifest next to me, and my gaze soon filled with the figure of a small, blonde girl.

The adolescent was shifting nervously back and forth and already had the flush of I'm going to do something inappropriate and I am so nervous about it coloring her youthful visage. This was going to get interesting, I inwardly observed!

I held her gaze because even though I knew mischief was coming, I feel like people need to earn their moments of mirth. She moved in close to my position and whispered in a barely audible tone,

"I have a question for you."

Clamping down on my impulse to smile, I replied, "Shoot."

"What's a condom?" she blurted.

"It's a prophylactic."I replied instantly, and I have to admit I truly relished the look of embarrassed confusion that crossed the poor kid's face, then I went on,

"We have some books on that particular subject, I can show you where they are located."

Little Miss Foiled Discomfort was on the ropes, for she most definitely did not get the reaction that she was anticipating. She began prancing around as her embarrassment train had fully derailed.

"Did I not answer you question fully?" I inquired.

"No." She uttered in a humiliated tone.

"Well, it's a form of birth control, and if you want more information than that, you will have to ask your parents about it."

She squeaked out a thank you and bolted to the door.

As the Birth Control Inquirer left the library so did the laughter leave my manager's form. My boss is often amused at how I deal with people, especially kids. I told her round two would begin shortly, as tweens and teens usually can't let things go so easily, especially things to do with latex and bodily functions.

Sure enough, a couple of minutes later a curly red haired creature came flouncing in the door and placed her elbows onto the circ counter. Her face was the shade of a hot house tomato. Before she even opened her mouth I asked,

"Do you have a question for me too?"

Pre-embarrassing reproductive question hurling face shade

Her face broke into a smiggle[1] and she began thrashing around like a worm in hot ashes. The red-barrassment glow of her face began to increase into a fire engine colored hue, and suddenly, with a violent expelling of air she squealed, "I can't do this!" and rushed out the front door.

This time I joined my boss in a quality round of belly laughs before proceeding with the rest of my day.

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[1] A smiggle is somewhere between a smile and a giggle, I usually am known to engage in this action when I am exceedingly embarrassed, and to be honest, that phenomenon has not occurred in my form for many years.

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And as always, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's bemused and never abused iPhone.

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