Hokay. Reviews are in from my last two forays:

“Aww, I was so sad after reading it.” – co-worker

“THAT was depressing …”  – close friend

“You left that cafe too soon!!!” – Florida resident

“You need to pick better venues.” – dating coach

So today, dear readers, I bring you something fun, light and random: I talked to two guys in the elevators of the San Francisco Public Library.

Why I was there is not relevant at this point. I’m a journalist by training, and I am researching something.

Meet-cute with guy #1

I enter on the west side of the Main Branch of the library. In the elevator, I press “5” as this is the floor I need. Young man in blue shirt, khakis, battered briefcase and glasses gets on with me and presses “6.”

I’m feeling flirty.

“What’s on six?”

Cute khaki glasses guy explains that he is researching historical information for his architectural firm. I say something about that being cool.

DING! Floor five. I saunter off and he saunters with me.

I’m confused, but still feeling friendly: “Didn’t you say you were going to the sixth floor?”

“Oh gosh, yes!” Back on the elevator he goes.

I head to the main desk of Floor Five of the SFPL. I tell the nice man behind the desk what I am looking for. He promptly tells me I need to go to floor six.

You will NOT believe who I run into on floor six.

There he is, Khakis-Glasses-Cute-Guy is at the floor six desk, getting pertinent info on his historical endeavor. I’m now standing behind him and he looks back at me.

Okay, so I established a slight flirtation with this (way too young) guy previously so I have to admit to him this is kinda funny so I say, “Looks like *I’m* the one who got off on the wrong floor!”

Let’s pause to remember that we are at a Public Library. Stern women are looking down their reading glasses at us. We are giving over our state-issued identifications and signing some agreements to Remain Silent while visiting.

It kinda harshes the vibe. He smiles, goes to the microfiche, I go to the other side of the room.

Two hours later, I am knee-deep into not finding the historical San Francisco text I am looking for, and khaki-clad-architect-guy is long gone.

“The Library is closing in 30 minutes.”

Eh. I can try to find my piece of history another time.

I go back to the counter, get my stuff back, receive an admonition for not having my library card with me, and get on the elevator.

And now, a new guy is there. And he’s having trouble with the buttons.

[P.S., curious about my dating coach? Meet Annie.]