The Library Club

[This post was actually written yesterday, but go figure - there isn't unlimited wifi at the public library, so I lost my internet connection before I could send it. I think I waited in line longer than the amount of time I had online, but c'est la vie, n'est ce pas? See details below.]

I read on an American's blog somewhere that the Bibliothèque Publique d’Information was an interesting place to check out.  Huge public library - free to all - in the same building as the very modern Centre Pompidou, the Paris equivalent of MOMA.  When I woke up to a rainy Saturday morning, I thought to myself - this is the perfect day to go to the library, work on my job search, catch up on stuff.  There's also a public pool nearby, so I though I would reward my hard work with a swim afterward.  Sounds like the perfect plan, right?

Or not.

When I arrived at the library around 2pm, the line snaked for several rows in front of the entrance and then further down the street.  That's right - I said the line.  No, they weren't giving away money.  No, this was not some new hot club frequented by celebrities that everyone was dying to get in to on Saturday night.  It's the freakin' public library.

I thought to myself - surely, this won't take long.  I had brought all my French books and my lap top with me, so I was carrying a heavy load in high hopes of a successful visit.  But after waiting 40 minutes in line, I thought to myself - this is stupid.  I don't NEED a library.  I just thought it would be a nice place to get some work done.  I have free wifi and a desk in my apartment.  Or  I could go to a cafe, work over a glass of wine, and take the occasional break by people watching.  Mostly, I just couldn't believe that I was waiting in a line for something that would have been an automatic entry - no problem - in any city in the United States.  Why is there a line for a library in Paris?

But my new motto is no complaining (can't you tell?).  I recognize that it's completely obnoxious for me to complain about anything when I'm on a 3-month vacation in Paris.  Besides, I've come to the conclusion that Paris is kinda like pizza - even when it's not great, it's still pretty darn good, right?  

So I went and checked out the public pool, which was a much more successful adventure.  The man at the front desk complimented my French after I asked him a million questions about how things work.  He then introduced me to the "pool boy" downstairs and asked him to show me around.  Unlike my previous Paris public pool experience, people actually managed to swim orderly in lanes here.  I did my laps, and Pool Boy made me promise that I would come back tomorrow.  Other than the fact that there's no men and women's locker rooms - everyone just shares the same common area, including showers, and then goes into their own individual changing room when they need privacy - I actually enjoyed the experience.

Then I got some food, walked around a bit, and hit a cafe for my afternoon glass of Sauvignon Blanc.  All told, I killed about three hours before returning to the library at 6pm.  I thought by then, surely no one would be waiting to get into the library on a Saturday evening in May.  Wrong again.  The line had gone down considerably and moved more quickly, but since we all had to enter single file and go through security first, I didn't waltz in like I expected.

Yes, I'm talking about a library.

Now that I'm here, I'm thinking about camping out over night.  This place oughta be really off the hook by Sunday morning.  I feel like I just won a sweepstakes or something - I'm *inside* like a VIP.  You can even hear from outside the occasional eruption of cheers and clapping for the street performers doing their thing in the piazza in front of the museum, so it actually sounds like I'm at the epicenter of the Paris party scene.  They should re-name this place Club Pompidou.  All they need is a velvet rope, a secret handshake, and a big intimidating bouncer with a baritone voice and a name like Bubba.  

Thanks for reading!