Day Seventeen: I’m getting serious vibes from this lady licking her lips at the library

Two days without Internet in my room.

As much as I can’t wait to move out of the 63rd st. Y and to a room with Internet, I am going to miss one thing: it’s location. I don’t think I realized today how great of a location it is. I can walk to pretty much anything I would want in less than twenty blocks. I walked to and from the NYPL today TWICE, and it didn’t even seem like that much walking. I won’t be able to do that in the new place. I realized the new place is further from my current room than my current room is from the NYPL. That’s interesting, and a little disconcerting.

I probably should have gone up to the new area I’m moving to once before now, just to check it out, but I have not. I really hope it’s in a similarly nice area. Maybe, being uptown, it’ll be a little less C.C. and a little more Upper Westside. Which I think it will be, because if we’re talking literal location, that’s exactly what it is.

But either way, the new room has Internet. Right there in the fucking room. Thank the lord. I can watch netflix again. And porn. I wonder if I’ll still come to the NYPL to use the Internet. There won’t really be the need, will there? I mean, I’ll still come to check out DVDs and books, but the whole spending an hour-plus here per night thing might be coming to an end. Which makes me a little sad. I’ve grown very fond of the library.

I’m there now. Not in the Ben Cosman Experience room, but across the street, in the regular library branch. I’m sitting at one of the tables on the second floor, my two movies and one book next to me (Rushmore, The Informant, and Oblivion by DFW), watching the old woman (best guess: 73 years old) across from me read a book titled Eat Greens and lick her lips approximately every four minutes. I suppose I should be creeped out. But I’m not, really. It’s kind of endearing. Though if she tries talking to me while licking her lips, I’m going to bolt out of here.

I don’t know why she keeps licking her lips. She doesn’t appear to be mentally unbalanced at all, she looks pretty well put-together, so it’s different than when the homeless individuals on the street do it. I wonder if her lips are just really dry, I’d be tempted to offer her some chapstick if the idea of that didn’t gross me the fuck out. I do like her glasses, though. They frame her face nicely. She’s got a real Helen Mirren vibe going on.

I was pleasantly surprised this morning to see the accordion man back in the Bryant Park subway station. He’d been ominously missing the past week or so. But today he was there. Granted, he was playing a pretty sinister tune, but it was comforting to see him nonetheless.

Apparently they found snakes in the C.C. fountain. Good thing I’m not that weirded out by snakes, otherwise I’d want to GTFO even faster. I better tell my fruit guy though. Something tells me he doesn’t read HuffPo. And I’d be sad if he got it from a giant snake.

As of this posting, just under 44.5 hours to go without Internet in my room. The countdown commences now.

-Ben Cosman

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