Ok. So the fetching Peth and I left Theresa in charge of the library while we went to the student center to get some coffee. Peth has a headache and so she took some stuff and it makes her a little queasy but less headachy and we decided to get some breakfast/lunch, which I suppose is actually brunch, to combat the queasiness.
Here at the student center they sell food product that can be eaten and aside from a few greasy, runny bowel movements, the eater will suffer no deleterious effects. To quote Hannibal Lecter "It is not food as I understand the definition." Still it is available and when one is queasy or even just hungry it will do. We opted for the weekend breakfast bar thing because it was inexpensive. We loaded our plates with bacon and french toast and some odd potatoes that had grown a new skin in the pan, and the Russian immigrant behind the counter asked us if we wanted new eggs, and Peth said no that's ok, and then the immigrant took the pan of eggs away, which is not at all what Peth wanted.
So Peth became all demure and told me that she had in fact wanted eggs but did not want the immigrant to go to any special trouble to make fresh eggs and so I asked the immigrant woman where the eggs went because Peth was shy and the Russian woman looked at me like I had my shoes on my ears and said "Zat iz wat I askz you. You zay no eggz I take away. You want eggz I make fresh!" So I said, "We want eggs." and she vanished. Then she returned with what had to be 18 eggs scrambled and piled on a plate for the two of us. I guess she used to work in a Siberian prison caffeteria or something. It was a lot of eggs, I can tell you.
We paid for our eggs and coffee and when we were in the ketchup area putting the food in to go containers for easy transport to the library, Peth said, "So how much of this do you want." She meant the eggs. I said, "none. I just asked for you." So she poured the three pounds of scrambled goodness into her plate and we headed out. The containers were transparent so we could see the egginess squishing through the spaces between bacon strips. We did not see a retainer this time, but we kept an eye peeled.
Here comes the Theresa part. Let me set the scene.
The law library is on the third floor of the law school. The elevator bank is located in such a way that if you step out and turn to your right you will find the bathrooms. If you step out and turn to your left you will see the circulation desk. The bathrooms and the circulation desk are separated by about twenty feet. In the bathrooms there is a yellow stripe across the walls. It's a rape tape. If you press the yellow stripe an alarm sounds and the police come, at least in theory. The alarm always sounds. That part is not a theory.
So we slogged back with our eggilicious sustanence and when the elevator doors opened we were assaulted with the sound of the bathroom alarm. I looked over at the circulation desk and Theresa was reading the paper. So I said, "Theresa, how long has the alarm been going off?"
And she said, "Huh?"
And I said, "The alarm? Did you call the campus police to shut it off?"
And she said, "What alarm?"
And I cursed her quietly.
It seems the alarm is broken, and will spontaneously go off from time to time until they send a repair person.
This does not bode well for Peth's headache.
Posted at 11:43 a.m.
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