Bum's Rush

My first blog entry from New York will be about how I got here. Specifically, how I got into the 125th Street branch of the NYPL. It's pouring rain outside. I arrived at the library door at 11:53AM, but it was locked until noon. Around 11:57, the various characters, ranging from muscled juice heads speaking Spanish to tattooed skinny young guys nodding off, hustled from under the nearby vacant marquee to stand right behind me at the door. Soon, the rain hastened and the characters got closer to me, and more vehement in their demands the doors open soon. When Brit and my old landlord told me to be situationally aware in NYC, I think this is what they were speaking of. I gently touched my laptop through my backpack, making sure it was secure, and turned toward the doors, peeking through the glass with the hope of seeing an employee headed our way. "I'm going to be soaked," said one particularly incensed man in the queue. I envisioned myself as a headline in the NY Times, "Man Crushed in Stampede to Read." I got the feeling they had done this wait before. Like every day. Because when the librarian finally headed towards us, someone behind barked, "Move back, he's got to open the door outwards." And so he did.

Once inside, I saw what the rush was about -- not just getting out of the rain, but getting in line to use the computers. Librarians pleaded for calm as the men, about eight of them, and no women, hustled toward a terminal.

So here I sit, in probably the only public library I've ever entered without a public restroom, having to pee and writing while several men gingerly one-finger type on public laptops, given to them after the desktop terminals were all occupied.