Look! It's my library room!
Now that I'm in school, I spend the same two hours in the library on Queen Street every day, and I’m starting to recognize people who work here or who come here often.
I spend all my time in the special collections room. It’s a nice room. It has a glass wall in front so I can see the main desk and the front door, but the glass keeps the noise out.
Here are descriptions of some of my friends:
There’s the guy who comes in about a half hour after me. He’s maybe 50+ years old. Wears a baseball cap. Moustache. Glasses. I would guess that he’s a writer. He whooshes in here like someone is chasing him and plunks his computer down on a table. I can’t sit next to him because he’s so loud. If he sits next to me, I move. I don’t want to be unfriendly, but I am a very super extremely distractable person and I can’t take that kind of action. He types loudly and he does not have the sound turned down on his laptop, so there is a lot of beeping and an occasional “ta dahhhhhhh!” going on near him. He stays longer than I. He drinks a lot of coffee.
There’s a librarian guy who I can’t figure out. He’s maybe in his 30’s. What do you suppose a library job pays? Maybe he’s a writer on the side and he just works at the library putting books away to keep the lights on in his efficiency apartment over the corner store. I bet he’s secretly writing a slasher novel. Or one of those period sci-fi fantasy novels with knights and fairies that I love to read lately. Or else he’s a student. Getting his doctorate degree in zoology.
There’s a short, pompous heavy-set librarian guy who actually seems to be very sweet despite the pompous demeanor. That’s just a coping skill anyway. He loves to talk with people who come in looking for information about the area. He will just talk and talk and talk and talk. It is mostly older ladies who come in looking for this type of info about Alexandria for their Rotary Club or church. They love him.
And then there’s the olive-skinned dark-haired short guy who is very serious. He’s here most days, but sometimes he takes a day off. He’s not here today. He works with a laptop, but he’s not typing away at it all the time like me or the writer-guy are always doing. He carries a day planner. But no school books or other books.
And there’s old-reader guy. Large glasses. Ponytail. Pants too short. He doesn’t sit in the special collections area, though. He sits in an armchair just outside the room. He’s here when I get here and he’s here when I leave. And he reads and reads and reads. I wonder why he uses the library as his living room. What does his real living room look like? Does he come here because he’s lonely? Is he homeless? He’s not the best dressed guy, but he looks fairly clean, so I don’t think he is homeless. He must be interesting to talk to. What with all the reading. But I’ll never talk to him. Don’t feed the bears and all.
The special collections area is pretty small. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I stood up and did something totally inappropriate. Like if I had a question while I’m doing an assignment and I just stood up and said, “Hey! Does anyone know another word for inaccurate?” Or something like that. Or, if I just yelled curse words. It makes me laugh to think about it, but it also makes me blush something awful just to think of it. So I had better not do it.
