The Library

Something strange always happens when I go to the library.

I'll go there about once a week, usually after I've overstayed my welcome at the nearby coffee shop (they sometimes give you stink eye when you sit there for four hours and only buy a measly $1.50 cup of coffee).

The internet's free and it's usually pretty quiet. Usually.

Now, the one thing about libraries that's always miffed me is that its expected that visitors talk in hushed tones, but the librarians always talk with a normal volume. We've all got to whisper, but they can answer the phone like "CHICAGO PUBLIC LIBRARY, HOW CAN I HELP YOU?" And they can carry one with fellow librarians like they're walking down the street together. I can't wait to see the looks on their faces at the moment I "Shhh" them.

Strange things that have happened while at the library:

One day a middle-aged female librarian working at the computer next to me while on on the phone had a breakdown and started crying loudly while the person on the other line presumably gave her a really hard time because she couldn't find a book he/she was looking for. That was awkward.

One time a large younger black man with bright orange hair (whom I'm pretty positive was not heterosexual) was blatantly staring at me. Every five minutes or so I'd look up from my computer towards him and he'd be looking right at me. When I first noticed him he was sitting a couple tables away. Every 10-15 minutes or so he'd creep closer to me, one table at a time, until he eventually made his way to the seat next to me. Of course, he stopped staring at me when he sat next to me. He just sat there reading his magazine and said nothing to me. I left a couple minutes later.

Another time some aging rocker type who looked like he'd had recently come across some hard times (his teeth were all over the place his clothes were caked in grease) was trying to pawn off some casette tapes (presumably as a donation) to one of the females librarians. He had a grocery sack full of them and judging by how she responded to seeing him, she'd been through this routine before. She dealt with him in the sort of faux-polite way that a librarian or a retail worker has to deal with the off-beat characters who frequent their places of employment. She tried to be helpful and answered his questions, but did so with a slight air of annoyance that normal people pick up on. He just kept on talking, though.

The tapes were classic rock bands like Zeppelin and the Who.

"This album, Led Zeppelin IV, is in my opinion their best work. Bonham's drumming is really great on this one," I overheard him enthusiastically telling her while she nodded her head mildly.

I was wondering to myself why, if this man was so passionate about the music on these tapes, was he giving them all to the library? And if he were looking to get rid of some tapes, why wouldn't he at least take them to a pawnshop or used record store and possibly get some cash for them? Perhaps, despite his currently destitute situation, he hadn't lost his sense of altruism. Which is quite noble if you think about it.

I, however, haven't been back to the library since, nor have I bothered donating any cassette tapes to it.

Enough with the honking people

Surprisingly, very few things have annoyed me about this city thus far. I honestly can't think of one singular thing that has brought me chagrin every single day, except ... people unnecessarily honking their horns.

I bet the average Chicagoan hears at least a dozen horn honks a day. Some are succinct, such as a cabbie peppering his horn to grab the attention of a potential customer. Some are cautionary, like a bus driver letting a cyclist know of their swift, massive presence. And some are completely idiotic, like the people who lay on the horn at an intersection where somebody crossing the street in front of them had mis-judged the length of their green light and wound up stuck with their ass end partially blocking a lane of perpendicular traffic for the entire time it takes the light to change. These people are the worst.

Honking is like capital punishment: It doesn't work as a preventative tool. Yes, people who get ambitious and try to sneak through a yellow light and wind up getting blocking traffic are annoying. And they deserve to be honked at, if for no other reason that to let them know they fucked up. But to hold a sustained honk for 10-15 seconds is obnoxious and does not an ounce of good. Will the person blocking the intersection forever vow to never attempt squeaking through a congested intersection again? Probably not. Will your sustained honk peeve everybody within a 50-foot radius and wind up making you look like the jerk of the situation? That’s very likely.

A little advice to you drivers of Chicago: For starters, to the cabbies, when we’re looking for you, we usually see you. No need for the heads up toot. To the sustained-honking pricks: just stop. To the bus drivers: sometimes you guys sneak up on us, so in the instances you don’t think we see you, honk away.

These measures could make walking downtown 30-40 percent less annoying.