In sunny Scottsdale, Arizona, city of a trillion palm trees, palatial estates, and manicured boulevards. Based on appearances, I was banking on full signal strength. I cashed in on two bars. Too slow to Google, after all that is the ultimate test of wireLESS. Isn’t it?

I told Ashley that I saw a guy piped into the ether at one of those single-study-desk-bay-jobby-jobs.

“So I’m gonna move over there and try the Ethernet port.”

 

She asked, “Is there a place for me?”

 

I replied, “Not Really.”

The answer was clearly no. Why did I say not really? Weird. Anyway, forgoing our little daydream of a old-timey library study date complete with mounds of output and progress. I climbed into the mute-colored distraction-eliminator capsule and gave the SPL wireless connection another go. After all, I was sitting dead center in the purported mecca of Wi-fi access points. Google a no-go and a rightclick frenzy later brought me to an outright digital denial via the Dewalt yellow ethernet cable.

Defeated and overdue for a cigarette and a change of venue, I returned to our big glossy sweet piece of library real-estate. When I came back to the table I left no more than 20 frustrating minutes ago, my seat was occupied by some DOOD! He’s got some books open, and a blank notebook. I get the feeling I interupted something.

As Ashley and I were smoking outside the library, she recounts her 50% of the whole encounter. This guy decides to have an in-depth conversation with her as soon as he plopped his ass down in the chair that was still warm from my ass. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with him talking to Ashley. A part of me has a big problem with him talking to Ashley – in a LIBRARY. I mean, this guy unloaded it all. Here’s the rundown:

• Just got back from Iraq 5 months ago.
• he can’t sleep at night.
• he just signed up to do three more years
• he’s studying for a police examination.

So, now I’m replaying events in my head. When I approached the table, as I already told you, there was an air of discomfort. Then, he gathers up his stuff in a frenzy and says, “Sorry, I took your seat, man.” I tried to tell him that it was ok, we were leaving anyway. But, as I now realize he was fleeing the shame of facing the guy whose girl he was chatting up. I had no problem with the guy until now, as we were walking to Jamaican Blue smoking as we walked and seeking this elusive Wi-fi rumor.

Dear Library Vet,

(insert customary ‘support our troops/thank you for your service’ colloquialism here)

A library may seem like a great place to meet a smart girl, and you did, so, I commend you on your good taste. However, I must assist you in coming to grips with your poor judgment. Remember the ubiquitous librarian from your youth? Ever-present with her index finger traversing her lips and with a silent shrill firing out a Shhhhhh…

The public library is neither a place to do some low-tech tail-trolling, nor, a place to do any high-tech wireless ether surfing. I figured I’d save you some time in both regards.

Ashley and I reached our destination, Jamaican Blue, but they serve killer coffee and lo! BEER. So yesterdays post went all to malted hops, and barley. Blarney!

And that, my friends, is why I did not post yesterday. I’d apologize, but, I think that Scottsdale Public Library should first.