I've been doing some research on promoting my book that requires me to spend some major time in the public library. I spent about four hours there a few weeks ago, and it was a hellish nightmare. There were homeless homos canoodling, a wasted couple who had that fresh-from-prison glow to them, an angry black man flipping newspaper pages as loudly as humanly possible while eating an apple, a guy with laptop keys so annoying it sounded like he was on a typewriter, and people so smelly I had to hold my breath when they walked by. Beyond that, all the magazine pages that have shirtless men or prettymuch any women in advertisements or fashion spreads have giant "Property of San Francisco Public Library" stamps in the middle of each picture so that you won't rip them out and go masturbate by your shopping cart in the alley.
Yesterday I was supposed to go again and I just couldn't take it. So I joined The Mechanics' Institute Library, which is a 150 year-old private library that costs about a hundred bucks a year. It's in this beautiful building downtown with three-story windows and a pretty good magazine archive selection, which is what I need it for. The membership dues only account for a small part of the operating costs of the library. The rest they make up in rent they charge on the upper floors of the building.
Beyond the main room, the stacks of books are on tiny floors with narrow staircases and 6-foot ceilings. They have wireless access and they just started lending DVDs. It's old school but just getting into new technology.
The average member appears to be a man in his eighties. The library is a huge place for geriatric chess players, with a whole section of books on chess and Sunday tournaments of some sort. I don't know how those guys get up and down the tiny steep staircases. I bet people lose a lot of hips in the building.
I spent about five hours in there and it went by lightening fast. It's amazing how much you can get done without constant annoyance of the general public. And I could leave my bag at the desk while I went to get more books or use the restroom without fear of it getting stolen. It was wonderful.
Fans, despite my constant threats with suicide bombs, I do try to uphold the ideal of living in harmony with my fellow humans. I want to share the sidewalks and library and public parks and government services and healthcare with everybody. But the reality is that weeding out the riff raff is so much more pleasant. Despite going against my ideals, I felt really good about being a member of this private institution.
I was thinking about that while taking public transit home. Then a retarded person threw up over four seats then slipped and fell into a puddle of her own vomit and smeared it all around as she tried to exit the train.
So now I'm thinking, maybe private car ownership isn't such a bad idea either.