A Day in the Libe

Andrew Gross

There is an odd phenomenon that takes place in the McGill libraries, most commonly seen in the McLennan tower. If you have ever gone around any of the crazy square floors (which I'm pretty sure they designed with a rat maze in mind), you will have most definitely witnessed this strange yet certain act taking place. As soon as you emerge from the labyrinth of library books to the outer desk area, you will be met by a barrage of staring eyes. Don't fret, you don't have a piece of broccoli stuck between your teeth, and you aren't special despite what your mother has told you. This happens to everyone. As soon as the gazers realize that they have no clue who you are, and your little stare-down tango is over, they submerse themselves back into their studies - as if the whole ritual hadn't taken place.

As you continue your walk to find the desk suitable to your study habits, away from the gum chewers and loud page turners, the heads sway up one after the other like the wave at a baseball game. It is actually quite funny. I think part of the explanation may lie in the idea that they are looking for someone they know to save/distract them from whatever work it is they do not want to be doing. But after seeing this take place over and over, I am beginning to think that it may be some sort of library reflex. Sometimes, I circle around the floor looking for a desk, and then circle again just to fool everyone who thinks it is a new person coming. This act is mostly received by disappointed glares - however, every once in a while you get the dirty "no you didn't look" and even rarer is a smile from someone who feels like they are trapped in the twilight zone.

As you continue on your journey, and you find the right cubicle which most certainly doesn't have enough light, your adjacent cubicle mates give you the once over to see who it is that has entered into their study domain. Personally, I try to be as quiet as possible, but people even get mad from the sound my zipper makes when I open my bag. I've tried the slow approach and the quick like a band-aid approach, which I have adopted, to get the noise over with. Next I hide my drink on an angle where the library patrol squad won't be able to see it - normally in the back right corner of the desk. If they happen to catch you, just give a really confused look when they point at your drink like you have absolutely no clue what it is they are talking about. Then they will look at you a little funny because you are supposed to be a smart McGill student, point to a sign that is most likely no less than five feet away from you which says no food or drink in the library, and then wait for your response. Then you give them a big acknowledging smile like you have figured out some ridiculously hard puzzle and put the drink in your bag. Once they leave you are good for at least another half an hour; or you can succumb to the squad's force and leave the drink in your bag. I like to live on the dangerous side.

Finally it is time to start studying. Nowadays I make a conscious effort not to look up when someone passes by. This doesn't really help as I am distracted from my work by the thought of denying the McLennan reflex. When they are gone, I am left wondering if it was someone who I know. It really seems to be a lose / lose situation. Either you look and are distracted, or you don't look and are distracted. After I get a not so solid session of work in, and I feel like I need a break, I go for a couple of laps around the floor to keep everyone on their toes. I really don't know why everyone likes to study in the library so much because I can't seem to get anything done there. But if you like the feeling of being in a dimly lit mouse experiment and you want to give your neck a workout, then the library is your best bet.