GOLDILOCKS OF THE LIBRARY

Apparently, I am Goldilocks of the Library.

I find myself with a few hours of study time and a chance to do work while my sister attends a meeting at a nearby library.  I need a good spot to correct papers, but I've never been here before, and I need to explore.

The first thing I notice is that the place is smaller than I am expecting.  It seems like much of it is set aside as private meeting rooms, which is fine except that it is a public library.  I go all the way upstairs, see a quiet study room but decide it's kind of like a windowless closet with a table and chairs, so I skip that. 

I spot a table by a window, but it is surrounded by computer work stations.  There is also a table by the elevator, but I figure that means foot traffic, so I move along.  I go all the way downstairs to the children's room to check out their collection.  The room is tiny, or seems so compared to my town's library children's room, and there is no place to work.

The main floor is very busy but has a room full of books and computer stations and long work tables.  It seems too distracting, so I go back upstairs and seek out the table I saw first by the window.  It is still open.  I spread out my stuff and discover that I have a lovely view of the river and the street and buildings below. 

Yup.  This table is just right.

Until a young couple appears, stands by my table, then pushes up against it.  They pretend to be looking out the window.  It is a fabulous view, after all.  However, they do not go away for a few minutes.  Oh.  Ohhhhhhhh.  They want my table.  Well, tough crap.  My papers are strewn everywhere, and they can bite me.  They're not getting my just-right table with the just-right scenic vista.

After working for over two hours, I head downstairs to the main floor.  My sister's meeting will end soon, and I don't want to hold her up by being in the middle of a stack of papers.  I wander away from the bustling reference room toward a large window with many taped-up broken glass panes.  A large red bench is positioned in front of the window, and behind the bench is a brown vinyl chair.  There are more brown chairs nearby along with a quartet of blue vinyl chairs.  Plenty of seating choices, so I plop down in the brown chair near the bench and the window.

Yup.  This chair and this view are just right.

In the stacks near me I hear a man and a woman chatting over books.  They sound very much like a they are employees restocking books.  The conversation turns to taking a break.  The woman wants to sit down. 

"Oh.  Someone's sitting there."

"What do you mean someone is sitting there?  In the chair?"

Next, I hear a "Harrrruuuuumph!" followed by "I'm sure we can find you a chair in the LARGE PRINT section!"

For fucks sake, lady, there are seven other chairs identical to the one I am sitting in, all within spitting distance, plus there is the giant red bench.  Honestly, lady, sit the fuck down somewhere.  Anywhere.  Just not in my lap.

Nope.  She wants MY chair. 

I stand up to see if her name is on my chair.  Nope.  I check out the entire chair -- no name plate for her.  I sit back down again.  As soon as I know she and her cohort are out of sight, I get up, abandon the brown chair, and set up shop in one of the still-unoccupied quartet of blue chairs mere feet away.

When my sister's meeting ends, I leave the library behind me.  I've corrected two sets of papers, found a just-right table, a just-right chair, and had a just-right afternoon.

Apparently, I am Goldilocks of the Library, and the other bears ... patrons ... will celebrate my departure by sitting at my window table and resting in my brown vinyl chair.  Have at it!