Diaper Lady

Sorry about not writing lately. I’ve been in a dark, dank place in my mind at work and I’ve somehow crawled the fuck outta that shit hole.

After a silly argument with Lauren about the amount of bookmarks she’s been giving out to patrons, I’ve implemented a strict no nonsense attitude at work. I look straight ahead and don’t make eye contact with my coworkers and staff. I don’t initiate conversation. When I walk, it’s with a focused purpose that really isn’t much of a purpose at all other than going to the bathroom, getting snack out of the fridge, and retrieving my documents from the color printer. So far it seems to be working, seeing as no one is speaking to me. I’m probably coming off unapproachable, which is fine with me because if it’s really important, then they will approach me with it. If not, they’re in trouble. #bossbitch

I thought I’d write today about Diaper Lady. A very poor, unfortunate old woman who will probably live forever through some deal she made with Satan that she’s long forgotten about in her old age.

Diaper Lady is kinda the town misfit. Everyone knows who she is. You guessed it, she wears adult diapers. She’s the reason I begged our administration to reupholster all our furniture because her diaper would leak onto everything she planted her ass on. Now we have wipeable furniture. It’s not exactly ideal, but at least it’s easier to clean.
She’s not allowed to check out library books anymore. She’s damaged so many with her own piss that once she reached over $25, the staff were more than thrilled about it because now she can’t check anything out unless she pays off that fee. Of course she doesn’t have money. She’s been reduced to taking some honor paperbacks. Hell, she can take all of them! John is a paperback hoarder and we don’t need to make anymore space for those tatty old books.
She is loud as fuck with and of course nothing that comes out of her mouth is anything of substance. It’s normally something like, “I told that fucking bitch!!!”

She calls me, “Angel.”

She pushes her shopping cart down our very dangerous main street. They’re currently constructing sidewalks on this main street. That’s how behind this town is. Diaper Lady doesn’t actually look where she’s going, of course. She hunches over so low over the handlebar of her shopping cart that she can’t see which direction she’s heading, which is normally in the direction of oncoming traffic.

I hadn’t seen Diaper Lady in weeks, maybe even months. I lost track when faced with picking Loretta battles. When I finally realized Diaper Lady hadn’t graced us with her presence in a very long time, my coworkers and staff said the same thing: she hadn’t been here in ages. You know what that normally means in the customer service universe? They’re dead. We checked the newspaper for any news, or obituaries and there was nothing. I imagined this poor woman dead in a ditch somewhere, long forgotten by her fed up family.

I was covering the reference desk for Gerald and the phone rang. I answered it.

“Hi, Angel! It’s (insert real name here) Ms. Diaper Lady!!!”

I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it. Here I was, holding the phone a foot from my ear because Diaper Lady’s sweet voice is wailing from it. She then proceeded to hold me hostage on the phone for over 10 minutes to tell me that she got hit by a car. She’s in the hospital with a few broken ribs. The guy that hit her made up some excuse about not being able to see her. I will vouch for the driver. It’s sometimes really hard to see when you’re driving around 5:00pm during the late winter season. The sun is glaring and everything just looks golden white. Anyway, the guy was still in deep shit because the police found weed in his car. Bad luck, man. But holy crap! Good luck for Diaper Lady!
This was the second time she was hit by a car walking aimlessly on the main street. She got hit just last Thanksgiving! How many cat lives this bitch got in her?

Lauren saw Diaper Lady walking across the overpass again last week. So she’s recovered, it seems. It’s only a matter of time she remembers there’s a library over here and makes her way in, terrorizing everyone with her stench and vulgar conversations. I can’t wait.

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