Friday, May 21, 2004

Nearsighted Dave

It seems we've traded one annoying internet hog for another. No one's seen Parka in over a week and a half so we're pretty sure he's gone bye byes. Now we've got a new guy: Nearsighted Dave.

Nearsighted Dave's actually been in before but only stuck around for a couple of days, hardly putting him in danger of being added to the Rogues Gallery. However, over the past few days he's been trying to rectify that status in a big way.

Nearsighted Dave, perhaps more than any other patron in recent memory, has an overwhelming hunger for our computers. He signs up for a computer and makes grumbling sounds when he can't get on one immediately. That's typical Internet Crowd behavior, mind you, but he takes it a step further. Nearsighted Dave evidently loves our computers so much that when he finally gets to use one he has to sit with his face practically pressed up against the screen itself. I am SO not kidding and SO not misusing the word "literally" when I say that he literally sits with his face three inches away from the screen.

We thought this odd enough, but even odder still was the fact that Nearsighted Dave never seemed to be actually DOING anything with the computer. To the untrained observer, it appears as though Nearsighted Dave is merely staring at the screen, perhaps absorbing needed radiation his alien race requires. Upon closer inspection (i.e. nosy "liberry" ass. reconnaissance on my part) Nearsighted Dave is actually using a chat window, which his face entirely blocks when pressed up against the screen.

On Thursday we had to bump Nearsighted Dave off to allow other patrons to use the computer on at least three separate occasions. After each bump, he would hurry to the front to sign in again and would whine and moan about the excruciating 16 minute wait. He also refused to behave like a nice patron and wait upstairs, out of sight and out from under foot. Instead, he paced the main room, staring longingly at our timers.

Nearsighted Dave, at one point, explained that he had not finished checking his e-mail. According to him, he has 18 separate e-mail accounts, all of which he must check regularly. (Oh no, he's not going to cause problems in the future.)

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An employee of a small town "liberry" chronicles his quest to remain sane while dealing with patrons who could star in a short-lived David Lynch television series.