I spent several hours in the public library yesterday. I was there for the same reason as many of the other patrons: To escape the snow and cold. Unlike most of the patrons, I was reading. I first sat in the comfy chairs near the stairs, but there were any number of people who were in that area to talk, drink soda, and strategize about who was meeting whom where to go back to the Mission. After conversationalists sat on both sides of me, both incredibly smoky, sweaty, and stinking of old alcohol, I moved farther into the room. This still left me on the edge of a circulating mass of non-readers. Reflecting on where stray, boozy, ungroomed men were least likely to be tolerated by library staff, I finally moved to the children's room, where ignoring the occasional shrill scream seemed like a reasonable trade-off. This was fine and I was able to read several middle reader/young adult novels I've intended to get to for a while.
On the one hand, I'm all for libraries as a warm respite. On the other, I don't think it's unreasonable to wish that the rules be enforced so that the library isn't hard to use for its intended purpose.
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