The Library Gang

Hey.

Currently the apartment Jenny and I share is depressingly devoid of internet. To me this often feels like living on a planet that is devoid of all life. To combat my cabin fever I have been spending a considerable amount of my time at the Portland Public Library. To be more precise, I have been spending a considerable amount of time using the library's Wifi. I need my Facebook fix, man.

During my internet binges I have become familiar with "the regulars," those people who spend their days haunting the library and doing whatever middle-aged men do on laptops in libraries. It's quite an interesting group of people so I decided I would write about them and, by extension, share them with you. Allow me to introduce you to the "library gang."

First up there there's felt-fez guy. Felt-fez guy makes noises whenever he feels emotions. Sometimes he makes noises because of computer problems and will get tech support from silver ponytail guy. Silver ponytail guy just sits and stares at his computer. I never even see him type anything or move his mouse. I have no idea what he's doing. Then there's bald-goatee guy. Today he didn't even have a computer. He just sat there.

There is also The Incredible Orb. You see, The IO isn't one of the cool kds. He's not really part of the gang; he just orbits. While we chill in fiction The IO sits next to the DVDs and music, right where you can look through the shelves and see the Somalis yelling at each other in the teen section. When looking at The IO he doesn't strike you as fat, just incomprehensibly round. An incredible orb.

I see The IO more consistently than I see any of the others. He's always there, always in the same spot. When I told Jenny about him she said "Maybe he works online? Like stock exchange stuff." Today as I walked past him he was very clearly on Neopets. Of course this made me wonder how my own abandoned Neopets account is doing.

Then of course there's that one weirdo, leather jacket-comb guy, who's actually here to read. All the time. He reads the paper. A lot. Like, maybe he's a workaholic newspaper editor and just has to read it that fourth time to be really sure. Today I saw him with a book. He reads with the book or paper in his right hand and a plastic comb in his left. Occasionally the situation on the top of his head will get just a bit too raucous for his liking and he'll use the comb to settle everyone down.

Lately the library has been missing the first member of the gang I ever saw. I call him Mister Pornography, or Mr. P. for short. I met Mr. P. on my first day in the library. I had just become the proud bearer of a key-chain sized library card and was prepared to begin borrowing. I headed over to the graphic novel section and, while flipping through Batman comics, I noticed him.

He sat facing the window at the long desk adjacent to the graphic novel shelves, his back, and the bright screen of his netbook, facing anybody who walked within twenty feet. His paling hair hung in kinked waves nearly reaching his shoulders and, over those shoulders, the content of his screen was very clearly in violation of the library's rules as well as what many would call "common decency."

Mr. P. sat reclined like he was on his couch at home, the angle of his body doing nothing to obscure the screen. He flipped from image to image with the utmost swagger, as if he were the head librarian of the pornography section, master of the Dewey "Blow Me" Decimal system.

Today I watched a new guy get kicked out for looking at porn. I think that's probably what happened to Mr. P. This new guy was nothing like Mr. P., though. I felt bad for him. He looked so ashamed as the security guard made him pack up his stuff. He could tell that the entirety of the gang, as well as myself, were watching and listening to everything being said.

And that, friend-o, is my life.