Le geek, c’est chic
The British Library, my spiritual home. The only club in London that will have me as a member.
A place where I am surrounded by people who understand the absolute necessity of having the same locker (410) and the same seat (3226) each day in order to concentrate.
Where they have gauged the tastes of their clientele so well that the cafe provides both organic tofu sandwiches and spotted dick with custard.
Where the noticeboard contains messages such as the one that I saw today:
“Call for assistance: Seeking a publisher for a non-fiction memoir based on my 18-years’ experience of cat-sitting.”
Farewell until 2007, when, as the clock strikes 9.30 am on the 8th of January I shall be waiting outside, poised for the doors to open and claim my locker.
A place where I am surrounded by people who understand the absolute necessity of having the same locker (410) and the same seat (3226) each day in order to concentrate.
Where they have gauged the tastes of their clientele so well that the cafe provides both organic tofu sandwiches and spotted dick with custard.
Where the noticeboard contains messages such as the one that I saw today:
“Call for assistance: Seeking a publisher for a non-fiction memoir based on my 18-years’ experience of cat-sitting.”
Farewell until 2007, when, as the clock strikes 9.30 am on the 8th of January I shall be waiting outside, poised for the doors to open and claim my locker.
posted by Lady V at 7:13 pm
8 Comments:
After 3 months sitting at the same desk, in the same chair, on the 3rd floor of the LSE library, I can completely relate to your description. I am at home there, concentration regained in a few seconds as I regain the familiar seat, day in day out, weekends included.
Then, 2 days before leaving for Italy, I arrived, early bird as usual at 8:30 in the morning, to my spot, only to find SOMEONE ELSE there. A stranger, never seen before, not even someone who belonged to the 3rd floor. I was flabbergasted. I stood there looking at him, somewhat expecting he might apologise and leave for such incomprehensible behaviour.
And instead, he just sat there, pretending (for I know he was pretending) to study. I wobbled into one of the hundreds of empty seats (hundreds, for NO ONE arrives that early, NO ONE except me!) and sat there incapable of concentrating for hours.
The following day, I arrived even earlier, 8:10. And guess what? HE WAS THERE AGAIN!!!! My heart sank.
I left for Italy the following day. I know he's there, using MY place. I hate him. I want to cry. There's nothing I can do but feel this trickling away of my sense of certainty about the future...
Darling. It's an ABSOLUTE travesty of justice. There's no excuse for it. No matter. Let him be lulled into a false sense of security and then, when he is confident that his coup has been successful, you will strike.
He shall be taken out and shot, forthwith, for crimes against humanity. i insist on it.
errrrrrr...totties?
am a bit disturbed.
a: i take it that the usurper of your seat was no jake or you would have welcomed the opportunity to engage in witty back and forth flirty recriminations. of the you-took-my-seat- so-whatcha-gonna-do-about-it, eh?
v: oh totty...time for the tried and tested orange squirt
ehm... and then it's me the one with OCD..
to our weirdness totties... long live the no stripy cups and the no flat cutleries..
a.. just a question.. was he also ugly? you could ingaged in conversation or just say.. so?? sorry darling but that has been my seat for the last 3 months, do you mind moving somewhere else otherwise I can't concentrate?
AND>>> what if that has always been his seat and for the past 3 months he had to live with the frustration of finding you there.
TARATATAN... the mistery of the SEAT..
V. s could make an extention to the movie, add library seats to the benches for her documentary...
Holy season greatings darlings... we shall reunite soon.
OF COURSE he was ugly as a run-over cat. Fat and wearing shorts over a pair of flabby and hairless white legs. AND he wore sandals. IN DECEMBER!!!!!!!
Needless to say, he shall pay a heavy price when I am back.
I love you, Lady V!!
Heidi
hello! blog more and better. resolution no. 34 of the tot list
Please. The cat-sitting tell-all is so played out.
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