The Secret Life of Librarians
This morning, in a half-awake, half-asleep state, I stumbled into the library elevator because I was too lazy to take the stairs. As what King Louis XV called “The Flying Chair” rumbled to life, my brain slowly cleared and I realized I was staring at a green placard with the room directory. At eye level were the words:
“What the crap?” I thought. But before I got around to contemplating what that actually meant, the flying chair spat me out into the stacks, bewildered.