field notes

it's been long enough now that i can confidently assert that dorms are a total racket. in retrospect it's highly suspect how they require new students to live in them, because otherwise nobody would. then again, many are so sheltered that they probably have no idea that the dorms are more expensive than most proper apartment rentals around campus. in many of those rentals, you might still have some roommates, but the huge bonus is that they are never literal roommates like you get in the dorms, actually sharing the same room with you...

my roommate could be a lot worse. his name is roger. he seems to have come from a good family, raised well. no junk food, limited tv and video games, very little social media use. good grades, chores, extracurriculars. good boys like him go to heaven when they graduate, which in this case is a respectable (but not too respectable) college. naturally, since arriving here he's spent nearly all of his free time gaming (on the new computer he convinced his mom to buy him for his “college work”) and using his meal points almost exclusively on snacks and soda. many such cases.

whenever i come into the room, roger always seems to be at his desk gaming. it's a bit frustrating, never having any true privacy, but for the most part his attention is entirely focused on the world inside the monitor. the persistent little clicks and clacks from the mouse and obnoxiously loud gamer keyboard eventually just became part of the room's ambiance, like the humming of the minifridge or the whirrs of the ventilation system. occasionally it would be punctuated by something less mechanical: roger yelling at the game. mostly it was just angry swearing, but he did have one cheesy catchphrase for when things were going well: “can't dodge the rog”. i always looked up for a split second when i heard it. it felt like a lone spark of humanity penetrating the room's machinic background noise.

i asked roger one time early on what his major was. he said undeclared. i looked it up and you don't even have to declare a major for two years, he told me. are there any you're interested in right now, i asked next. not really, he replied, just going to do my gen ed requirements and see if anything catches my interest. so far everything's a breeze compared to high school, he continued, funny how all the college prep ends up being harder than the actual thing. plus, i don't have to go to practice, volunteering, student government, honor society meetings... no washing dishes or cleaning up anymore... i see him briefly glance back at his computer. did you know, he said, you aren't even required to go to class? most assignments are turned in online anyway. i show up only for tests and discussion sections now. ah, i said, that's why you're always in here. he paused for a second. it's more important. it's a far better use of my time. esports are getting bigger every year. i really think i might have a shot if i train smarter than everyone else. a lot of players may look like nerds but did you know they're not even that smart? i'm different, i was top of my class in high school. valedictorian, maybe, if my school did that. they told us college is all about chasing your dreams, so that's what i'm doing. huh, i said, good luck. he turned back towards his computer. i hope i can make my speech a lot more convincing before i have to use it on my mom, he added without looking away from the monitor.

one day when i came into the room, i was caught off guard when roger approached me. he rarely acknowledged my presence, too focused on his computer. he said, look, what have i always said are the two big g's. i said i'd never heard him talk about any g's, let alone big ones. he looked confused for a second, then said maybe i was thinking of someone i talk to online. but the two g's are gaming – of course, i interjected – and girls. right, i said, fair. although i really haven't seen you have anything to do with girls. he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, it's all right here now, he explained, don't even have to leave your room anymore, just like with classes. it's all online, in the apps. so anyways, i've been talking with this one girl for a while now, it's getting really serious, i'm so close, and this evening she's... well.... this room... uhhh – do you want me to leave then, i asked. yes, yes, yes, just like from 7 to maybe, uh, i dunno, 8, or no... 9? i wouldn't know, i said, but you can just text me when you're er... com-done. ok, alright, perfect, thank you so much, you know i've always got you if you ever need to, well, you know, yeah. i'll keep it in mind, i said.

as the appointed hour approached, roger was still gaming of course. the atmosphere in the room felt more robotic than usual though. not even any swearing was to be heard. the clicks and the clacks were somehow lifeless compared to normal. the difference was, i think, that his mind was outside the game for once. leaving a reasonable time buffer, i excused myself from the room and took a book down to the common room. i kept my phone close at hand, eagerly awaiting the return signal because the seats weren't that comfortable. things took a turn for the worse as a flock of my floormates came in and began to chatter amongst themselves, even turning on the tv. unfortunately, a side effect of cultivating my attention span by carefully avoiding too much stimulation is that i'm very prone to being distracted by things like people talking near me or tv shows in the background. i considered absconding to the library, but surely roger wouldn't be that much longer by now, it was a little after 8.

i burned a little more time by heading down to get an evening snack, then settled on some of the chairs near the dorm entrance where things were a bit quieter. still, the message did not come. any other day i might be happy to just randomly spend a couple hours reading outside my room for once, but something about the fact that it was explicitly off-limits right now made everywhere else seem unappealing. the forbidden fruit and all that. i started having difficulty focusing on my book because all i could think of was checking my phone for a message, even though it was on vibrate. a watched phone never rings, i thought as i put my phone deep into my pocket and checked the time on the wall clock, determined not to pull it out for another fifteen minutes. then i noticed, wait it's already 9:15? surely roger was done by now, the latest estimate he threw out earlier was 9... he can't be expecting me to wait down here all night... distressing visions of trying to sleep through the night on the big couch in the common room floated through my head. but then again, what if he really was still going, i couldn't just walk in, that would be unbelievably awkward... i would probably have to change roommates or even schools... what if my new roommate is extremely annoying... i went back up to my floor's common room and resigned myself to monitoring the hallway for anyone leaving my room. MY room, but really it was roger's domain now.

the book was starting to wear on me so i pulled out my phone and tried to do some homework on it. if i knew things would get this bad, i would've taken my laptop with me, but alas. it wasn't long before i noticed the battery was beginning to run low. naturally i hadn't charged it all day, and the charging code was in the room. things were beginning to look quite dire. the time was now approaching 10:30 and i hadn't seen anyone leave the room. it was even starting to get near my bedtime at this point. i decided i had no choice. i stood before the door and steeled myself. i gave roger one final chance and pressed my ear up against the cracks. silence. alright. i turned the key in the lock and opened the door.

maybe i should have seen it coming. roger was in his usual position at the computer, gaming. roger, i said. he didn't respond. eyes fixed dead ahead at the monitor. ROGER, i said louder. again, no reaction. statuesque. i walked over, put a hand on his shoulder, and spun his chair around to face me. he didn't even flinch, still completely silent. had he been ignoring me deliberately? but he also looked dazed, like he barely recognized me. roger, what gives, i said. with great effort, it seemed, he opened his mouth. i...i... i waited. a really long time. way longer... than i was supposed to. she... never said anything... never came...

oh, i said, that's, uhhh, rough. i'm not good in these situations. what was i supposed to say? “my condolences”? “plenty of fish in the sea”? maybe i'd lighten things up with a joke. admittedly i was also a bit miffed he'd ruined my whole evening. so i quipped, looks like she was able to dodge the rog.

the rog didn't reply. he just turned his chair back towards the computer and returned to his game. i stood there for a moment, then went over towards my side of the room and prepared for bed.

it took me a while to notice, but i don't think i ever heard him say “can't dodge the rog” again after that.

living on campus is kind of like staying at a resort, and i'm not talking about just the expense of it all. there are, of course, all those convenient amenities that said expense is supposedly paying for, like the gym or the pool. then there's one that you almost certainly won't find at an actual resort, but that i happen to appreciate the most: the sprawling campus library.

library usage now is probably a lot different than it was back in the day. these days it seems to be the designated location for "serious studying". i never see anyone reading there, all i see is people hanging out alone or in small groups, tapping away at various laptops. sometimes there's also an open textbook or loose paper being written on, but there's always a laptop. all of the books in the library might as well be wallpaper for all they care. they're just part of the background, the aesthetic, only there to steadfastly enforce the silent atmosphere by reminding people that this is a library. maybe people also think that such a massive accumulation of books gives off faint intellectual radiation that will rub off on them somehow, just by being in close proximity.

anyways, this is why i feel like kind of an outsider when i visit the library, even though in theory it should be the one place i belong. yes, that's right, believe it or not i actually go to the library to find books, and sometimes i even dare to read them within its hallowed halls. i could easily pirate every book ever online, but for whatever reason i've always preferred to read good old dead tree books by a wide margin. something about screens just doesn't do it for me, even the ones they try to brand as "e-ink". as a massive cheapskate as well, a huge library nearby is pretty much the optimal setup.

sometimes, though, i feel a little intimidated by the size of it all. the internet almost certainly contains more information by an order of magnitude or more, but it conceals its size from you by only revealing itself a glimpse at a time through browser windows. the library, on the other hand, there's something about it all being there, physically, in this huge building, taking up so much space, rows and rows and rows of shelves. it's a bit overwhelming, and whenever i start getting too anxious, i roll up to a nearby shelf and pull out something random. more often than not, it's something like the fifteenth volume (covering the year 1963) of the collected proceedings of the romanian academy of applied hula-hoop studies, and i let out a sigh of relief because the eternal principle that 90% of everything is worthless still holds.

unfortunately, what this does mean is that all the borrowers are left to squabble over stuff in the remaining 10%. i said before that i only ever see people glued to their laptops in the library, and that's entirely true, but i know the other borrowers must exist because somehow all the good or interesting books are checked out until the midpoint of next year when i look them up in the catalog. i didn't even know it was possible to check things out for that long, they certainly never give me the option no matter how thick the book i bring to the counter. occasionally i find a book in the catalog with a more remarkable status like "missing" or even once "destroyed", and i wonder just what are the mystery borrowers doing with some of these books. worst, though, is in a book is supposed to be "in place" on the shelf and you laboriously track down its exact position and it's simply... not there. maybe you're looking in the wrong place. maybe the librarians misshelved it. or maybe you just missed one of the shadowy borrowers, on their way with it right then to check it out...

one day, i had an encounter. as usual, i came in and used a computer to look up a book in the catalog. status: in place. repeating its address in my head, i cruised down the library's main throughfare, ends of shelves passing by on either side like buildings in the car window. as i got further into the outskirts, the people gradually fell away until i was left alone. out here, there were no places to sit down and study, only books resting in the rigid grid of their shelved suburbs. finally, i came upon the correct shelf, and turned down its access road. but something unexpected shook me out of the stupor of highway hypnosis. out of all the possibilities, somebody was already perusing the books on that exact shelf.

i caught only a split-second sight of cascading cocoa curls before automatic safety precautions kicked in, averted my eyes, and turned myself to face the shelves, hopefully not so abruptly that it would be too noticeable and/or weird. a girl! in the deep depths of... the library! which might mean she was a... literary girl? theoretically it shouldn't have been possible. dfw declared "only in upper class psych wards or certain support groups in bougie neighborhoods". i wasn't prepared at all. my eyes refocused and i saw the numbers pasted on the spines in front of me. and what's more, by my reckoning she was right where the book i was looking for should be.

i couldn't stand staring at the spines forever, so i pulled a random book off the shelf in front of me and opened it up, pretending to be deeply involved in inspectings its contents. the book was probably in english but i couldn't make out a word of it. every last speck of my attention was devoted to the far side of my visual field where i desperately tried to make out as many details as i possible could from my current position. i could only see her in profile because she was still facing the shelf, i hadn't even seen her face yet, but there was absolutely no doubt she was cute. maybe glasses as well? what if we were actually looking for the same book, something out of a corny romance, our fingers start on opposite sides of the shelf, searching, shyly snaking across the spines until... they meet. you wonder: were they looking for the book, or for each other. as i finished thinking this i saw her reach out for a book. maybe she was doing the same thing i was, pretending to peruse because the book she wanted was actually right where i was standing. she pulled the book out and i caught a good glimpse of the cover. i would have gasped if i hadn't been holding my breath so intently. the distinctive rounded silhouette on a reddish background - it could only be dazai's no longer human, the very book i had come for. WHAT!! what could she POSSIBLY want with such a book? while my mind was still reeling from disbelief, she opened it up. but maybe this was the opportunity i had always been looking for? should i go up and try to discuss it? what do i say? "oh, are you interested in alienation and depresssion, not to mention japan, as well?" but wouldn it be strange, if not downright creepy, to in effect confess i had been spying on her? before i could come to any definite conclusion, she put the book back and started turning to come down the aisle. towards me. was she going to make the first strike? i didn't even indulge myself in getting a look at her face now that she was finally facing me, my attention shot right down and buried itself among the words in the book i was holding. they were still illegible to me. my heart was racing. i felt the air shift behind me, a ghostly gust passing, the faint musty smell of old paper and... incense? i waited a little longer, then relaxed, breathed. the coast was surely clea by now. the words in the book i had been staring at for quite a while by now resolved themselves. it was definitely english. curious, i flipped to the title page. "diary of a mad old man". i closed the book, glanced down the aisle one more time, then turned back and headed for the circulation desk.