Weirdos : Public Library :: Moth : Flame

So now that I've moved to Palatine, one of the bazillion northern Chicago 'burbs, I've spending a lot of time at the public library. Basically because I'm unemployed and I have nothing better to do but watch ESPN, read, and get on the Internet. I can do two of the three at the public library (and, really, ESPN.com is just as good as TV). The thing I've noticed about the library, besides the fact that the ones in the 'burbs are amazing compared to small town Ohio and medium town Indiana, but they are a mecca for weird people.

This week I spent the better part of three afternoons at the Arlington Heights Public Library, surfing the web and reading poetry and nonfiction stuff (exciting, I know), and on two of the days, I felt like I was in One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest. I was expecting Jack Nicholson to jump off the top of a bookshelf in front of me wearing a straight jacket and singing show tunes.

Wednesday, I was sitting in the Newsstand area, reading GQ, learning that two button suits are now the way to go, and if you're going to risk wearing a seersucker suit, you should sport only a cotton tie along with, when an older gentlemen, a book and Diet Mountain Dew in-tow, decided to sit next to me. This was fine by me, save his tendency to narrate his every move. It went something like this:

"Well I think I'll sit down right here in this chair. Whoa that's a comfy chair. All right, let's take a sip of this pop right here. Man, $1.25 for a pop, wow! They sure charge a lot! OK, taking off the cap. Mmm. That's a pretty good pop. And they keep it nice and cold. What...what is in this pop? Hmm...concentrated orange juice, and...citric acid...that's some good stuff for a pop..."

Now about this time, the guy across from me picked up his newspaper and left. And the scruffy old guy in the corner, who had been snoring under his hooded sweatshirt and over his open magazine, woke up and strolled off. I was completely in awe of what was transpiring. And it continued:

"Hm, lets open this book here. OK, where was I? I haven't been here in...two..months, yes that's right. Here's my spot. OK, The Untouchables [his book was about classic TV shows and their stars]. Ahh, Robert Stack, he played Elliot Ness. Yeah, boy does he look young. Oh! Oh! David Letterman! Boy he looks young. It looks like this was taken at least...twenty two years ago! Yeah. Hey, hey young man. Have you ever seen David Letterman look this young?" He leaned over to me, but I tried to ignore him. He persisted, though until I answered. At that point, enough was enough and I got up and left.

The day before, I was sitting about the same exact spot when I overheard a "discussion" in the cafe area. I got up to investigate and found a lady yelling an obviously drunk, hobo-esque, middle-aged man.

"I'm not going to let you do this. You need to get your stuff together! My second husband died of alcohol and you aren't going to do the same thing!" she screamed at the man, at full volume.

"I..do...have it to..gether...Rosa," the man slurred.

They continued to scream at each other for several minutes, and I decided to leave for the day. As I walked around the cafe to the exit (I could have walked through, but there was no way), I caught a glimpse of a guy about my age sitting right next to the door. He apparently had been sitting there for the duration of the "chat" and the look on his face told the whole story.

And yet, even though the library attracts weirdos like moths to the flame, I keep coming back. What's a guy to do?