In the cool of the evening
After a frantic last-minute burst of activities among the denizens of Suburban Public Library, I have now a few moments of peace to collect my thoughts before walking out to the parking lot and hoping that Ol' Whitey will cooperate in taking me back to my distant home. The two people who couldn't get MS Word to lay out their documents properly have departed; the fellow with the extremely loud voice who talks at great and repetitive length about his disabilities has gone home; the telephone messages about placing books on hold or getting a library card for somebody's husband have been answered and deleted from the memory of the answering machine. The library is dark, except for a few strategically-placed emergency lights, and deserted, except for me. And, to quote the bard, "I am left, alive and well, looking up and wondering why and wherefore."
(No, not that Bard. This one.)
Peace has been a rather rare commodity lately. I've been rushing back and forth between the two jobs so frantically that I literally have to plan a week in advance when I'm going to do laundry, and although finding money to buy a replacement for Ol' Whitey is a challenge, it's even more of a challenge to find time to go look at and test-drive new cars. Trying to plan the out-of-town trips that I want and need to take over the next month or two is an exercise in frustration, since virtually every weekend is filled with work shifts at one or the other job or other non-negotiable commitments.
Unfortunately, this is a rather a short-lived peace, since an appointment tomorrow morning means that I can't afford to stay up excessively late tonight. I'd take a late-night stroll around the mill pond and gentrified downtown "entertainment district" of Suburbia, but unfortunately the town pretty well closes up at nine o'clock on weekdays. You know you're in suburbia when the coffee shops close at six.
To shamelessly steal a line from another southeastern-Michigan blogger: Goodnight, my invisible friends. And forgive me my infrequent posting as I forgive you your infrequent comments.
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1 comment:
Fiend @ 9:57AM | 2004-09-22| permalink
"You know you're in suburbia when the coffee shops close at six."
Replace "suburbia" with "downtown Ottawa" and that statement would be equally valid. Extremely unfortunate. Although, in fairness, some of the coffee shops are just a little bit more adventurous and push closing time all the way to 6:30pm.
I'm all for replacing human baristas with an android workforce. I bet the level of service would also increase dramatically.
(You wanted comments, remember? You didn't specify that they be insightful or profound ones! *grins*)
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Carlos @ 11:44AM | 2004-09-22| permalink
You know you're in ruralia when there are no coffee shops. :(
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Felix @ 12:10PM | 2004-09-22| permalink
Depending on the way the androids were programmed, they might sometimes make better coffee. One "barista" in a Suburbia shop seemed to be confused about the difference between espresso and generic "coffee". I decided to get a bottled drink after hearing this.
Unfortunately, centralized corporate planning would probably result in programmed mediocrity, calculated to produce maximum net revenue at the minimal level of quality that the majority of customers could be persuaded to accept, rather than erratic human randomness-with-occasional-flourishes-of-genius.
I also doubt that androids would inspire male customers to pester them for telephone numbers, or female customers to pen songs like Taylor, the Latte Boy
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