Nine o’clock on a Monday night, and it’s like study hall in a library all over again. People working, people pretending to work. Caffeine and strange hours, tacky décor, and distraction just barely kept in check.

The Yo La Tengo song in my earphones is competing with Connecticut Muffin’s soundtrack for the evening. It’s Celine Dion’s proclamations from a sinking Titanic, and I get lost in the shuffle between years, the strangeness of the overlap.

I notice someone reading Ulysses, then reach for my coffee, distracted, checking my watch. I remember how easily my concentration wandered, and still does. People talking about test scores are talking too loud for this non-library -- maybe high school kids wondering what it’ll take to get into Smith. Not too long from now, they will wonder what will it take to get through it.

Attention wanders, and I’m captivated by the half dozen duck decoys this place has hanging on the walls, apropos of nothing. Across from me, more books being read: Riding the Waves of Culture – I can’t see any pictures. She looks smart, intense.

And it’s all just so great that I almost wish I was in that library again, except the girl across from me in the very real present just looked up and smiled. Understanding Diversity in Global Business never would’ve made me think twice before.

Fast forward, and Roxette goes head to head with the Shins. I’m 28. I’m something-teen. It’s nice.