And then I got kicked out of the library…

My social life lately has mainly been contained within the walls of the library.  But just because I’ve been stuck in an academic institution does not mean that my life has been boring.  Oh no.  There are plenty of crazy characters hanging about the library, and sometimes I’m so busy people watching that I forget to do my actual work; over the past several months, I’ve slyly been typing these shenanigans into my phone.  And by “slyly typing” I mean “giggling hysterically to the point that I have to pretend that I’m crying over a textbook and leave.”  Moral of this story: I’m really mature, and I accept everyone for who they are…

Every department of UCL has their own reading room, and each reading room is supposed to be a quiet environment where the only beverage you can enjoy is a nice bottle of water.  While this is really hard for me (because I really love to eat…and drinking water is boring), I have managed to sneak in a few Diet Cokes.  Shhhh!  I suppose this is as good a time as any, so I’ll just say it: hi, my name is Kobi, and I’m addicted to Diet Coke.  It started off as kind of a joke, but now I find that really not a day goes by where I don’t have at least one.  Or 5.  Sometimes it’s 6.  Or so many that I lose count.  Sooo, this is as scandalous as my life gets: I smuggle soda into a library.  I’m SUCH a rebel with a caffeine cause.  I was complaining about how hard my life is to my tech/life guru, and then almost got kicked out of the library because she threw this lil’ gem at me:

“Man- let adults have a stinking coffee in the library! We have legalized pot, gay marriage, been to the moon, and probably keep alien transformers under the Grand Canyon but we can’t even have a stinkin latte while we read! WTF!

That was a little extreme.”
-Melanie Carnes (since I’m going to grad school now, I have to properly cite my sources…and Mel?  I totally agree.  Because now people are sending fracking worms to outer space, but I can’t drink even drink a latte while I read about the world’s most depressing topic?? #firstworldproblems #hashtag #Idon’tunderstandhashtags)

Because of this whole “no talking/enjoying yourself whatsoever” environment, I find it strange that people still think it’s acceptable to put their phones on vibrate, and then set them directly on the table.  Every time you get a call/text/email/Facebook notification/BBM/OMG/IDK, the sound of a jackhammer and the shaking of the table are just as distracting as your phone ringing.  I would much rather sit next to the person who forgot to turn their ringer off, because then you get to sit back and watch the extreme panic take over.  The mad scramble into the bag, the rising panic when it’s not in the first pocket you check, and the endless apologies are adorable to me.  Because we’ve all been there, and we all think, “If I don’t find this damn thing in the next pocket I check, the entire room is going to hoist me up by my underwear and throw me off the roof!”  So thank you for the nice little study break; next time I’m just going to start a dance party to your Shakira ringtone…

I also love the people who have no shame with their library accessories.  Take, for instance, Nail Clipper Man.  Nail Clipper Man (or NCM…I’m lazy) started off as the cute boy sitting across from me in my favorite reading room.  But as I started to take stock of the massive amount of items he had spread around him, there was just one thing I couldn’t get past: who brings NAIL CLIPPERS to the library?!?  And just when I was about to snap a picture of these bad boys, he got up to go to the computer catalog.  And what does he take with him?  Not his wallet, not his laptop…he brings, the nail clippers.  Like they were his sanitary security blanket.  It’s like he knew this wasn’t a normal study tool, felt my burning desire to make fun of him on the Internet, and this was his way of rectifying the situation.  Needless to say: I was no longer attracted to NCM…

Then there’s this guy:

2013-01-24 13.53.44

Sometimes ya just gotta take a little snooze…

And as we all know, I really don’t understand British heating.  Another example of this is the floor of the Hebrew and Jewish Studies’ reading room.  Why is it that every time I pick my bag off the floor and place it in my lap to take a pull from my bottle of Diet Coke that I have the sheer moment of panic that I just peed my pants???  Seriously, I should know by now that the floor is so freakishly warm that it heats the bottom of my bag…it’s like a seatwarmer for your crotch.  (you know, that awkward moment when you haven’t realized that the seatwarmer has been flicked on, and you feel like you need to apologize to everyone in the car because shit just got real?  It’s like that, but when you put your 84 degree bag in your lap in public.)

So there you have it: I have no social life, I’m addicted to soda, I pee my pants on a regular basis, and I take creepy photos of people napping.  One of these days, my horrible rambling stories will end with, “and then I got kicked out of the library.”  Because it’s only a matter of time now…


12 thoughts on “And then I got kicked out of the library…

  1. I once got kicked out of my high school library for pouring two packets of pop rocks in my mouth and walking around with my mouth open. Give it a try sometime.

  2. Quite frankly Aaron, I’m surprised this only happened once. I’m sure you were also “that kid” who put Mentos in Coke bottles and had them explode all over the science lab…

    Jenn-you better be careful. Interventions are like Pringles: once ya pop, ya just can’t stop!

    “Abbigail” I’m only friends with funny people…you should know this by now. [like] <—what the "Like" button would look like…

  3. Actually, there is a like button above but I don’t know how to make -> point up so it will probably never be found. Unfortunately it’s only for the blog and not my much funnier comment.

  4. GASP-are you saying you are funnier than me?!? It’s like you’re asking me to ruin Downton for you. But since I am a much better person than you are, I won’t retaliate. I’ll just go cry by myself with the 7 bars of chocolate that I’m going to have to go get from the vending machine to make the tears stop. You cope with prescription cough syrup, I cope with vending machine purchases…

    And “Louise the ‘liker'”-never change that name. Ever.

  5. I am not in your stratosphere of funny. I bow to the queen. Now off to have a cup of Robitussin, my prescription has run dry.

  6. Pingback: I feel like an adult, and I’m freaking out | Lollygagging in London

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