D- in Scofflaw Studies

Once upon a time when I was a student at a college with very strict rules for dress and behavior, I realized that I had made it almost all the way through my freshman year without a single demerit in my file and I thought that was kind of pathetic. So I set out to break some rules. What sort of misbehavior would earn the wrath of the Powers That Be without resulting in some drastic measure like expulsion? I decided on a desperate plan: on a lovely afternoon in spring, I screwed up my courage and walked right into the college library--barefoot.

No one noticed. There I was doing the worst I could imagine and no one gasped in shock or handed me a demerit slip or complained to the PTBs. As a scofflaw, I was utterly worthless.

I thought of that experience the other day when I carried a cup of coffee into our brand-spanking-new high-tech library. Part of me expected a white-haired librarian with a hanky stuffed up her sleeve to gasp in shock and faint dead away, but we don't have any white-haired librarians with hankies stuffed up their sleeves and even if we did, they wouldn't be shocked. Why? Because the new library welcomes food and drink.

There are limitations, of course. Nobody wants to see big greasy messy pizzas or take-out Chinese noodles or cheese fondue in the stacks, but self-contained snacks are permitted, water bottles are everywhere, and coffee is de rigueur.

But I still felt like a scofflaw when I carried my coffee cup into the library. It'll take me a while to shush the voice of the white-haired librarian who lives inside my conscience. One of these days I'll lure her up to the stacks and crush her between those movable shelves--especially if she keeps reminding me of the time I went to the library barefoot and utterly failed in my attempt to be a scofflaw.