To the Evil Librarian: You're Needed on Floor 3.

I will never forget my experiences at the Ardrossan Jr/Sr high school library. I’m not sure what I was doing there, looking at my grades it was apparent that I wasn’t studying. I particularly remember two of the librarians, who I considered tyrants. One was a cranky old lady whose golden years weren’t so golden. The other was a middle-aged man-hater with a shrill voice and a nose for greasy Jr. High troublemaking..

They watched our every move, shushed us at every opportunity, and even expelled us from the premises from time to time. I even recall getting yelled at for “randomly” picking a book off the shelf. They ruled with an iron fist, mercilessly belching out punishment at their whim. I hated them. I want them back!

As a University student with a fairly average brain, I am relegated to study for fairly long periods of time. To avoid procrastination I often study at the library. I enjoy studying at Rutherford North because there is a system. There are ‘quiet floors’ and ‘silent floors’, the latter being my preferred choice, as I need to concentrate to figure out what the notes I hastily scribbled out in class actually mean.

One night, the wife and I decided that we would study together on the silent floor (3^rd). We were lucky enough to find a table to share and we got to work. If we needed to communicate we would message each other on our computers to maintain the “silent code”. We were reminded of this rule by a little sign that was on each table that said “This is a silent floor – No talking”. Unfortunately three distinguished gentlemen across from us did not understand this concept. To them “no talking” meant “I can whisper, constantly”. I don’t know what it is about University students, but they cannot shut up, even for ten minutes, they are always talking no matter where they are. They were also listening to their music loudly and one of them had this strange laugh, it was like a hundred little exhales in a span of three seconds. Both of us were getting annoyed. Since my wife is far more courageous than I, she decided to go over there and inform them that this was a silent floor and not a quiet floor. Like most people, they shrunk at conflict and were quiet for a minute, but then came to a realization: There is nothing they can really do, and carried on as before.

Oh, what I would have gave for the dynamic duo of evil that reined with blood and horror over my Jr. High library! Oh, how I miss the swift, thoughtless punishment dished out so freely and without mercy!

If only my thirteen-year-old self could hear this now!

-Kyle