The Piano Man

Preface

I am going to tell you a story, and I want you to notice that there is something interesting about this story. It has a beginning, a middle, and an end. I thought that was noteworthy, because much of the time, we only see small parts of stories without knowing how situations began or what will happen once we withdraw ourselves. So while this is an arresting story anyway, I am sharing it with you because of its exceptional literary tidiness.

I was at the library the other night, trying to do research for my literature review. I'd been there for at least a couple of hours already without making much progress, so my stress level was slowly creeping higher and higher. Then, out of nowhere, some music started playing. I jumped and looked around to see which one of my poor, embarrassed library mates was hurriedly trying to plug his headphones into his computer; but no one was. Then I realized that the music wasn't coming from a computer; someone was playing the piano.

Playing the piano! In the library! Who was this guy? And why was there a piano IN the library??

Obviously this was an outrage, and I looked around to my fellow library residents to exchange expressions of disgust. The only problem was that no one else was looking back. They were all still engaged in their reading, or composing, or Facebooking, or whatever they were doing. Suddenly I was thrown into doubt. What if this piano guy was supposed to be there? What if every Tuesday night at 10:30, they had some guy come play soothing music to help everyone relax as they studied? I didn't know what to do. If he was supposed to be there, then obviously I would have no support in getting him to stop. I would have to be the one to retreat if I didn't want piano music playing in the background of my workroom.

Being in such a distressed state, I turned to others for help. The Canadian was online, so I briefed him on the situation. He expressed his sympathy for my plight and advised me to, "GO COMPLAIN." Mostly because I didn't want him to think I was a sissy, I got up and walked to the desk.

A very young-looking man looked expectantly at me from behind the desk, and I said, "I have a strange question. What's up with the guy playing the piano?" The young man said, "Oh. He asked if he could play the piano, and we said yes."

If I had expected anything, it was not this. So the piano guy WASN'T supposed to be there; he was just there. Well then. This was much less of a dilemma. But not wanting to be too straight-to-the-point about it, I said, "Why is there even a piano in here?" The answer was that sometimes they have recitals in the library. Ok. Fair enough. But tonight was not one of those nights, so when the young man asked me if I wanted them to ask the piano guy to stop, I said, "Yes, please. But give me a head start so I can get back to my seat before you tell him." (I never said I wasn't actually a sissy...)

After I got back to my seat, I saw the library employee walk past, and a few moments later, the music stopped, and I returned to my studies.

The end.