Winter story for hot weather (for Threecee)

[hypatia_66]

Threecee's library story (http://www.mfuarchive.net/archive/6/aquiet.html) reminded me of some of the fun that can be had in a library. This is a true story of a small episode, in December 2003, in the life of Cambridge University Library where I used to work. I wrote it originally in a letter to my parents.

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The library choir held its first carol concert in the entrance hall last Friday. I always go because it's so hilarious. It is very much a test of assertiveness for unsuspecting readers trying to enter via the heavy revolving door in as unobtrusive a fashion as possible. Very few have the chutzpah to walk straight in past the singers (and mad conductor) and either down into the cloakroom or up the stairs into the library.

They mostly come in and creep sideways round to hide among the other onlookers, or they duck and weave past the main desk, bent double to avoid notice (thereby drawing maximum attention to themselves). Sometimes they stay outside for the whole twenty odd minutes. But on Friday it was pouring with rain outside and they all had perforce to make some sort of entrance, or indeed exit. One regular stalked in wearing his woolly hat, and marched straight between the choir and the conductor.

During the singing of one carol, a little shy chap came dashing out of the cloakroom in his mac and teetered round the choir (and mad conductor) and made for the door, only to be brought up short by the really very heavy rain. He turned, once more skirting the singers (and flailing arms of the mad conductor) and ducked his way back to the cloakroom whence he re-emerged bearing his large umbrella clutched horizontally under one arm. Once more he scuttled round the choir (and oblivious mad conductor) and made a dash for the door (which I remind you is a revolving one). Somehow, don't ask me how – we discussed it afterwards and couldn't decide – he managed to get into one of the compartments of the door together with some unsuspecting girl, plus horizontal umbrella. It was pure Hoffnung (or possibly Buster Keaton), the door turned inexorably and, of course, stuck. Fast. With the umbrella poking out. And it doesn't go into reverse, so there was a silent tussle on the part of several people inside and out to shift it. Eventually the action recommenced and the world moved on, leaving a great many people entirely unaware apart from one or two of us who were in fits (to the great surprise of our neighbours). The choir saw none of it, nor (of course) did the mad conductor.