BACK IN THE LIBRARY!!!

YU Library, Alternate Universe, USA

A guy converses loudly with a girl on my left. I don't know how old she is, but he's 22. I know this because she just responded to some silliness of his with, "are you 22 0r 12?" She wasn't quite as annoyed as I was. She's just announced that they will now have quiet time. But her phone rings to break that. And as she's answering the phone the guy walks out and does something to annoy/get her attention and she shouts "you're so mean, we're not friends anymore." Ahh quiet time.

Over Shabbos someone greeted me in shul with "does the Rav blog?" He's a blog fan and wondered if I worry about people reading what I write about them. I like to think that I'm pretty discreet. The question reminded me of a similar question that I posed to Sarah Shapiro.

I would like to focus on my writing but am compelled by what goes on around me, loud and interesting as it is. The one guy left and another guy's replaced him. He was the guy on the phone and there seems to be a real closeness between these two. Maybe a more private place would be more appropriate than the library.

Someone just tried to leave this floor via the stairs, opening the door with the sign on it that says "Do Not Open This Door" and setting off a screeching alarm. So he proceeded to get in the elevator and escape, while the rest of sit here pretending like there isn't this loud piercing sound blasting all around us. A French student just joined the row of cubicles, and is screaming into his phone in French. The alarm stops and I let out a sigh of relief. But about thirty seconds later it starts again.

Sarah Shapiro has a piece called When Noam Said No about a boy of about four who told his mother he didn't love her. The mother told Sarah the story in the playground, the only place Sarah and this person ever met. When it was time to go, Sarah witnessed the woman losing it at her children's expense and wondered about the inner workings of Noam's mind. I asked Sarah if she worried what this woman would think if she read the book. She answered that she didn't think the incident was memorable for the woman.

The couple, the only other people in this area, are having a staring contest. Or is it a giggling contest? Or is it something else entirely? I feel compelled to repeatedly type the word awkward. Awkward. Awkward.

I feel compelled to end this piece.