At The Library

The last few times I've been to the library, there's been this guy (tall James Dean type) with whom I've exchanged appreciative glances. For some reason, it just seems wrong. Like flirting in church. I dunno, maybe it's because I've always thought of the library as a sacred place of higher learning and lowered voices. It's a place where the thoughts and dreams of the masses are archived and protected. It's a sanctuary for the imagination.

I started going to the library when I was really little once a week with my dad. I could read and had my own library card when I was three. My dad would let me go off into the children's book section and pick out as many books as I wanted, usually 6 or 7 at a time, and then we'd go home and read together. My folks both read to me all the time from day one and I loved it. Since we travelled quite a bit while I was growing up, I've been into libraries all over the world. The overwhelming number of old books, as well as the architecture of the old buildings, always gave me a warm fuzzy feeling. By the time I was in jr. high and high school, I was reading anything I could get my hands on from Shakespeare to Jackie Collins. Books were always an escape from the petty social pressures I guess most teenagers have to endure. Anymore, I come to the library out of necessity to get my computer fix and brouse the periodical section. Still, I get this feeling when I walk through the double doors like I've just won the lottery or something. If you think about the vast expanse of knowledge available to anyone who cares to enter the building, it's pretty impressive. Yeah, you can look up anything you want on the internet and I'm a Googlephile like the rest of the computer nerds I know, but there's nothing like doing research the old fashioned way. I just like books. The way they feel in your hands, the new paper and ink smell, the old art paper inside covers... good stuff.

And then there's that guy. Looking sideways at me over the periodical index stacks and then looking down at his magasine with a cheezy grin on his face. I can't deny that he's cute in a rebel without a cause sort of way, but we're in The Library dude!! Why don't you just follow me down to St. Mary's and we can make out in the confessional? Funny thing is, I'm not even religious. I don't subscribe to any organized religion, I definitely don't go to church unless someone I know is getting married, and I'm not down with that whole Catholic guilt thing. However, I do respect the fact that other people have their own beliefs and that decorum dictates appropriate behavior in places of worship. Well, the library is like the church of knowledge, Mr. Flirty McFlirtson, so stop making me blush and when we get outside, then ask me out for coffee or something. Geez.