A Stinking Disruption

During the last half of 1978, I held a temporary job in the local public library, a job that was reserved for college students. The official job title was "Library Aide", which meant I spent most of my time shelving and rearranging out of order books. As this was a small library in a small town, I also spent a good bit of time checking books in and out.

For the entire six months I worked there, a man came into the library nearly every day to sit and read for a few hours. In that length of time, he never once changed his clothes or took a bath.

He'd sit there on the vinyl library couch, raking one grimy hand through his greasy hair while he read. His hair was so dirty that it stood up from all the grease and debris in it. His clothes were stained grey and black,with a black ringe of grime where his collar met his skin. He wore shoes without socks, and there was a corresponding dirt ring there where shoe leather met foot.

He exuded a stench so powerful that it would put a skunk to shame and could be smelled from 30 feet away. We had a librarian working there who many times had to go home sick, as his aroma would frequently cause her to vomit. Likewise, many library patrons would leave the library as soon as he'd appear.

As soon as he left each day, we'd break out the Lysol, along with a cleaning rag, and disinfect the area where he'd been sitting. A liberal dose of Lysol would be sprayed all over the library to kill the stench, which always took a good while to completely fade away.

Not understanding why the library director would allow such a disruptive situation to go on, I once asked her why she didn't simply ban him from the library unless he cleaned up. She told me that as much as she'd like to do that, she couldn't because it was a public place. Because he wasn't bothering anyone, except with his powerful aroma, her hands were tied.

And he didn't. Apart from his appalling lack of hygiene, he was a model patron, quietly selecting books, then reading in silence. I'm not sure if he was homeless, as he'd arrive in an early sixties vintage station wagon that was as dirty as he was, piled from floorboard to roof with all sorts of detritus.

I was 20 when I worked there and this man appeared to be in his mid to late 30s. I've always wondered just what was wrong with him and what happened to him after I left the library's employ.

Thoughts?