My computer recently turned on me (as machines tend to do) and kept me from accessing the internet for over a week. A few days ago I became so desperate to log on I broke down and braved the local branch of the Toronto Public Library, much like I had to do all summer and most of the fall.
I sign up for a computer and sit back and read the Oprah magazine while waiting for it to become available. The place smells rather…”ripe.” As it often does, as sadly mental health care in this country is an embarrassment and some of those who fall through the cracks end up here simply because they have nowhere else to go (that is a seperate and weightier rant for the future).
Things got even less comfortable when I saw the troll who lives under one of the neighborhood bridges sitting at the computer next to mine. He was watching porn, really, nasty-ass porn, sound on, for everyone to see and hear. He was grunting a bit too, and not very sneakily sneaking glances at me. Sadly, this happened a few times over the summer too.
Since no one on the library staff was minding the second floor where the computers are located, there was no one I could wave over so I gave the porn troll a stern look and tried very hard to ignore him as I checked my backlog of e-mails.
Then the White Knights* rode up and tried to rescue me.
“How dare you watch such filth in the presence of a lady, you cad!”
“Are you quite all right, Miss? You’re not traumatized by that man’s boorish behavior? Can I fetch you some smelling salts?”
When I could hold my tongue no longer (and the troll challenged one of the white knights to a duel), I got up and proceeded calmly downstairs to the front desk and informed the guy sitting there that there was trouble brewing upstairs. He looked at me and shrugged “what do you want me to do? Get in the middle of it?” I replied that someone bloody well should. A lovely clerk asked out loud, though to no one in particular “should I call security?” I told her that yes, she should. She then asked me to explain what had gone on and I helpfully pointed out the culprit. By that time I was sick of the whole damn place and quickly took my leave.
For a brief period in high school, I contemplated becoming a librarian. I liked the idea of spending my working life amongst volumes of musty, rich texts, and maybe sneaking in a nooner with a sexy English lit professor in a secluded section of The Stacks. Veeery quietly, of course.
But to study library science required some level of achievement in math so I decided to become a poet instead.
Maybe if I had become a librarian our libraries wouldn’t be in the sad state they are currently in. Even though library usage has increased in recent years, they are no longer sanctuaries to go and read or research in peace.
Remember when libraries were serious places where no one even spoke unless it was absolutely necessary and even then we had to whisper? Not the case anymore. Kids shouting, babies screaming, adults carrying on inane conversations using “outside” voices…most modern libraries may as well be coffee shops or Chuck E Cheezes. And when I shush someone, I get the dirty looks.
But allowing patrons to watch pornography in plain sight? A little kid could easily walk by and see it. And so could a lawsuit-happy parent. And libraries are on shaky ground as it is.
Isn’t it best to keep disruptive people under control in places people go to read or study? Sadly, libraries are in danger of becoming so unpleasant that those who don’t go there to watch porn may just stop going and maybe the government may get rid of public libraries all together.
That would be a damn shame. Free books during a recession, accessible and affordable public space and internet access for when your computer has a boo-boo are all valuable services.
As of last night I have my internet back. So I can get shit done in my own apartment, one of the few quiet places left in my world. With all the meaningless noise out there, I’m tempted to never leave it again.
*White Knight: according to urbandictionary.com “a person (usually a male) who sees the typical maiden in distress, and believes that he can help her. A male version of the “mother figure” that some girls become.”
“Why is he going out with her? She’s broken, and a little crazy.”
“The fool’s just being a White Knight.”
Good grief! Can’t they block that stuff? I mean really?
You’d think they would, but no. They might as well have back issues of Hustler on the shelves.