To the two women at Copenhagen Bakery who spent half an hour dissecting every minute of last week's Grey's Anatomy in voices loud enough to wake the dead: on a scale of 1 to 10, the extent to which you suck is 175.
To the married seniors sitting together in the library sharing a stack of magazines—everything from Vogue to Smart Computing—and then falling asleep holding hands: you are marvelous.
To the limping, no-longer-young man devouring the Postal Exam Study Guide: you are breaking my heart and best of luck.
To the tall, thin, sixtyish fellow in the cashmere v-neck and wild-wale cords listening to his iPod and grinning and nodding while perusing really fat books about various musicians: I know this seems like a crime-free environment, but I urge you to stop—I repeat stop—leaving your iPod and $300 earphones on the chair every time you get up to look for more books.
To the college-age female with three bottles of water and two Starbucks cups on her desk: you are wasting so much time unclipping your hair, playing with it, and then twisting it back up and re-clipping it, that you will never pass the exam which you are attempting to pass. yes, I am wasting time, too, but we're talking about you right now, young lady, not me.