I Smell Like Roses

There is something about bookstores and libraries that seem to physically affect my body. I dunno if they're pumping something in through the ventilation system, or there are vapors coming off the newly inked pages of all the books, or there are invisible 'lasers' being fired at me from atop shelves, but without fail I have the same reaction as soon as I walk through those hallowed doors.

No, its not a compulsive urge to buy or take out books about subjects I have never encountered before, although that is a close second. Its more like these facilities contain airborne fiber. Without fail, I end up getting really bad gas, and/or have the sudden and undeniable urge to make a huge dump. After about 15 minutes of walking around the isles, I'll start surreptitiously farting like mad, hoping no one realizes it was me. This often turns into an uncomfortable sensation in my bowels that I try to ignore so I won't have to put down my huge armful of books (someone might put them back, and then I'd be ruined!) Eventually the potty dance just can't be ignored and I dash around the store looking for the hidden restroom as I reach Poop Level Brown.

My only hypothesis for this odd phenomenon is that not only do I get so mentally relaxed in these places - lost in the pages of anything I pick up, really - but my body physically relaxes too. A little too relaxed. Anybody else have something similar? Anybody?

The moral of this story: avoid any isle I've been in in a library or bookstore. No, really.