The Power Of Suggestion

I've found that mass hysteria livens up the work day:

A man is in jail on assault charges after authorities say an assistant prosecutor, police officer and courtroom bailiff all got sick after shaking hands with him.

John Ridgeway, 41, was in an Isabella County courthouse in Mount Pleasant last month on a misdemeanor charge of driving without insurance. He now faces three felony assault charges and up to six years in prison.

After a Dec. 21 jury trial where he was found guilty on the misdemeanor charge, Ridgeway was observed pulling out a vial of liquid and rubbing his hands with the contents, officials said.

What was in the vial? Olive oil, he says. Abracadabra.

Don't underestimate the power of suggestion. I know it's amusing when you hear on the news that all the kids in a school lunchroom started puking and fainting because someone said they smelled something, but it happens even when you think you know better. I was irritated once because a patron said she smelled something acrid in the children's room that was making her ill. "Put up the big top," I thought. Calling the police to say somebody smelled something funny means the circus is coming to town. Police cars, fire engines, and a biohazard unit. All for what's probably a false alarm -- but you have to do it for safety's sake.
We were suspicious of the lady who made the complaint. She was pretty bright-eyed when she reported the smell, looked thrilled to death later on by all the hoopla going on, and when it was all over, smiled as she lay in the grass out in front of the library, next to the fire engines, long after all the other patrons had departed.

I was convinced she was full of crap.

I inspected the area and told the head of circulation that I thought the lady was an attention-seeker. He agreed she'd seemed a little too thrilled at the idea of toxic vapors floating around the Barney books. After she made the complaint, she'd never even moved her own children outside.

A few minutes later I'll still inspecting the area, when he comes back up to me and says, "Donnah, I've got a headache and I feel dizzy. I think I smell something." "Fight it, Karim, fight it!" I said. "It's just suggestion!"

I knew I was beat though, and called the police. Then I called downtown to tell administration we were closing the building. We evacuated everybody and I sent the staff out back. I stayed inside to let the cops in the front door...and I started to smell something...and feel a little dizzy. "This is pure bullshit," I thought.

I let the biohazard guys in. They were already laughing at me. They must do this kind of thing a lot. One says, "Whatcha got? A bad batch of perfume?" They do a quick tour with their meters. Then they make another tour of the area, meterless, for their own amusement. They walk around taking big whiffs of air and making wisecracks. "Diapers!" says one. "Wino!" says the other.

As I went outside to get some air and take an aspirin for the headache brought on by the non-existent toxic vapors, I knew I was as big a sucker as anybody.

(Via FR.)

Posted by floridacracker at January 15, 2006 08:45 AM