Sunday, March 09, 2008

The floor echoes every step I take as I cross faux-marble floor of the library. I cut through the grid of desks, making my way to the other side of the room. As I near the stairwell, I overhear a discussion about "word wrap" and what it means. I am not sure where this conversation originated and I do not want to stick around to find out.

One of the participants, Franz, is there. I fear he is going to try and drag me into this. I avoid eye contact and I continue to head to the other side of the library. I am still a little bitter at him for bailing on our group project.

I want to take the stairs, but I cannot seem to find the stairwell. I press the button for the elevator. I think about how far we have come since the days of typewriters. Before there was "word wrap" there was the bell that told you to reset the carriage. That has all changed with the word processor. "Ding." You've reached the end of the line. "Ding." Reset the carriage.


The elevator is here. A lady watches me as I debate getting in the elevator. One of my pet peeves is using the elevator for anything less than 3 floors. She is the stereotypical librarian in ever sense of the word, complete with shawl and horn rimmed glasses. I pretend to be interested in books located on the carts near the elevator when I spot the stairs.

Salvation - from her eyes, from my conscience. Two by two, I take the stairs in pairs, arriving on the second floor. I find myself amidst a library of snacks. Deciding on a drumstick, I begin to talk to the girl behind the counter about movies. Her smile floats on the surface of her round face. Her long black hair falls around her shoulders and is held back by a glittery headband.

"Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies."

I don't share this with her. Instead she suggests some movies for me to see. She mentions that they are having a sale on movies and I even find one that I have been meaning to purchase. I resist, knowing that I do not have the disposable income to buy movies right now. She suggests that I check out some from the library. It would be a good way to catch up on all the older movies that I had always meant to watch, but never did. She slides around the counter and goes downstairs.

I continue to work on my drumstick as I wander along the shelves. She returns a few moments later with a movie titled "Kidasaurus." She says that I would enjoy it. I take her word for it.

*note - I really wish that there was a movie called "Kidasaurus" because I would totally watch it.

Listening to: The National - Mistaken For Strangers
via FoxyTunes

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