Smoked Out

As many hours as I have spent in libraries, I have been witness to some remarkable things. You see the long term patterns that are hidden to he who flies in and out to pick something up quickly, but you also are by the law of averages present to see a lot of things that are as unusual there as anywhere, but eventually are going to happen given enough time. That's what it was for me this time around- if you go to the library enough, you'll inevitably be shooed outside when the fire alarm goes off.

If someone were reading Fahrenheit 451 or something of the like, I imagine the experience was all the more potent for them. As it was, it was sufficiently memorably for me. I detected nothing until the alarm went off, at which time I briefly contemplated trying to check out as I saw someone else do. Though the building seemed not to be in obvious peril of being engulfed by flames, I felt it was more important to ensure that I live to read another day.

It was my hope, as it clearly was that of the other patrons, that the library would shortly reopen after the threat was found not to be. Regrettably, the horrible specter of a potential inferno reared its head just fifteen or so minutes before the library was to close not just for the day, but for the next three days. I sat around out front long enough to learn that. I might have lingered a bit longer, as I had pressing matters to attend on my cell phone, and it was a lovely day to spend any part of in the park where this particular library is located.

Sadly, even this small moment of contentment was not to be, and I blame my fellow man. Just as I was chased from the edifice by smoke, so too was I chased from the park by something more dangerous, by which I mean of course whining and wheedling. I would have liked as much as anyone to check out the books and movies I had left inside, but it seemed undignified to plead on behalf of even 'For Whom The Bell Tolls' so that I would not have to wait until the following Tuesday. Off I went, destined for my home and the boxes there which contain a criminally ignored backlog of books I acquired and never read.