The “T” is for Tension
Posted on May 3rd, 2024 – Be the first to commentHaving fallen behind I decided to do some “studying” at the local hub of the TPL today, little knowing I’d be in for an unexpected treat.
It’s not that I hadn’t faced some occasionally tense situations in the library before but that was some time ago, a branch away, and a whole bookshelf over. But you never lose that feeling of something being just a bit off. Like today.
His hair was a little mussed up and he could’ve used a shave but otherwise he seemed like a regular patron: small but muscular build, clean but nondescript clothes, a few small items on the table in front of him.
Maybe it was the fact that the chair he was sitting on was completely covered in a large plastic bag (hint: not library-issued), but right away it seemed that something was not quite right. The absence of people in his immediate vicinity appeared to signal something as well. Then there was the rocking back and forth and the vigorous shaking of the head, as if he was doing his best to avoid some dark impulses urging him to do something. Sometimes his whole body shook with the effort of restraint.
I found this display so distracting that it took me some time to register the pair of scissors that he had sitting in front of him. To be fair, a rumpled tissue was partially obscuring them on the table but I ultimately noticed them when he went to blow his nose. I was, however, already set up and comfortable, so what’re ya gonna do?
While occasionally picking up and holding his scissors in a way that nobody uses for cutting paper, he remained relatively calm most of the time. But when an old man stood in line for the washroom just behind him he gripped the cutting tool tightly and hissed over his shoulder, “Don’t you FUCKING stand behind me! Don’t you EVER FUCKING stand behind me!”
Me sitting beside him didn’t seem to bother him as much (or at least he hid it better).
Luckily the geriatric quickly shuffled off, the scissors were (temporarily) put back down, and imminent bloodshed was avoided, but I couldn’t help but think how exciting the place had become since my youth. They have 3D printing now, professional audio and video production studios, and the fully immersive experiences are really keen. Take that, books!
I haven’t even mentioned the guy with “Wing Chun” emblazoned on the back of his jacket, bold and bedazzled sunglasses riding a craggy mug, parading around the premises and complaining loudly about all the, “goddam inbred motherfuckers in this fucking place!”
I don’t want to spoil the ending for you so let me just leave you with a couple of things I took away from the afternoon:
- I didn’t get stabbed. Nice.
- Little bits of inspiration are everywhere. Sometimes they’re very subtle but if you pay close attention you might just spot them, even some place as subdued as the library.
... with pictures
... with sounds
... with videos
... with opinions
... that's shorter
... that's longer
