Copyright (c) 1996

           RUBY, LIBRARY, CONGRESS--WHAT WORD DOESN'T BELONG?

     Michael Hahn, real-life incarnation of the Man in the Grey Leather
Jacket, liked teaching introductory classes.  It was just about as close
to performing as a guy could get without a Guild card.  This class was
for the staff of the National Digital Library Project at the Library of
Congress, which made it even more interesting.
     Unfortunately, Ruby thought so too.

                               *   *   *

     "...Standard Generalized Markup Language..." Michael was saying,
when the hurricane in spandex and silver leather blew in.
     "'Morning, y'all.  Sorry ah'm late.  The guard doin' the strip
searches at the door was surprisingly gentle."  Ruby plopped her "so
many men, so little time--but take a number" tote on the edge of the
stage and started rooting around in it.
     She came out with a big handful of hot-pink flyers and started
passing them out to the assembled, startled librarians.  Michael sighed
a heavy sigh, looked out to his colleague/boss/co-instructor.  "Tommie,
could you take over for a while?"  She nodded, and as she moved to the
podium, Michael caught Ruby's elbow.
     "Uh, Ruby, could we talk?  Over here?"  Ruby D. Begonia, Michael's
least favorite virtual apparition, allowed herself to be guided around
the partition and away from the class.  "What are you doing here, Ruby?"
     "Freeman said you'd be usin' me as a sample for whatever the fuh it
is yer teachin', so ah thought ah'd give 'em some of the real thing
instead of a sample."  She grinned.  "Besides, ah figgered this'd be a
good place to push mah Kabuki Temps."
     "Kabuki T..., uh, never mind."  Michael shrugged.  "Since I know
I'm not going to be able to persuade you to leave, I'll let you sit in
the back...and please promise to be quiet.  Please?"
     "Cross mah heart and hope to fall off Tony."  Ruby fluffed,
flounced, and preened.  "So when do ah get to strut mah stuff?"

                               *   *   *

     She sat in the back, and amazingly, she stayed quiet.  Michael
thought he was home free...then he reached the demonstration part of the
class.
     "Now," he said, not suspecting what was about to happen, "let's
look at a sample document."  At the same time the slide came up on
screen, there was a click from the back of the room.
     "Devil with a Blue Dress" blasted from a boom box, and Ruby gyrated
across the stage.

                               *   *   *

     Thirty minutes later, sitting with his head in his hands on the
front steps of the Library of Congress' main building, Michael was
trying to figure out exactly what happened.
     "Wassamatter, bub?" Ruby asked.  "Ah think we were a hit."
     Michael raised his head to stare at the gaudy figure.  "Hit was
about the only thing I didn't get, Ruby.  In case you missed it, my
boss' exact words were 'I don't know how to deal with your sabotage of
this project'.  That is not a good thing, Ruby."
     Ruby huffed.  "You and Freeman are always givin' yerselves ulcers
tryin' to please some doofus with no sense of humor.  Ah think we were a
hit."
     "Besides, none of them slides of yours said nothin' about virtuous
bein's...now all those folks know all about 'em."

                                 -end-
