So, there I was, enjoying life and savoring a beautiful day. The bright Texan sun was shining in the ever-so-vast Texan sky while tendrils and swirling clouds slid across the blue expanse. Some of that ever-harsh light shimmied its way through shuffling green leaves holding on dearly to the limbs of a large tree, making its way to the quaint bench I was sitting down on.

Of course, this was no ordinary bench, it was a splendid little wood bench in front of the ever-laughable Glasscock building (A fragile subject, I’d dare say.) As I sat there, leafing through my history notes and attempting to relive their corresponding lectures, someone called out, “Tom White! Is that you!”

(Yes. Yes it was me.)

One thing led to another, and I ended up asking her (The someone) a question that had been on my mind like an alarm clock sits on a night stand:

“What is your favorite children’s book?”

With a feline smile, she answered “Puss and Boots.”

My eyes lit up, my heart quickly began beating faster. It seemed like the sun became brighter and a light from the heavens slowly descended to highlight my instantaneous and utterly brilliant eureka moment.

I needed that book. (You wouldn’t understand.) I’d heard of it beforehand, but I hadn’t actually read a book about a cat with boots. This was destiny…

But, alas, a destiny that would have to be put off until after history.

I made my way through the lecture, focusing as hard as possible upon the awesome bad-assery of my history prof (more on that some other time) to prevent me from thinking about the book I was bound to acquire. When class ended, I bounded to the Evans (Or is it Evan’s? Or Evans’s? We’ll never know.) library, rushed into the lobby, and quickly began my search for a computer on which to search for the book.

My eyes darted frenetically about the first floor lobby, searching each and every possible spot for an open computer with which to conduct my search… alas, that failed. Not daring to give into pessimism, I flew up a flight of stairs to the second floor, only to notice that all of the computers were being used, again. Once more, I made an exodus to the nex-odus floor, and finally found a single open computer, waiting to be used…

In an instant, I had logged on, and in another heartbeat I had made the search… after a careful examination of the results, I realized with the crushing weight of sadness and agony that the Evans/’s/s’s library did not have “Puss in Boots.”

Dejectedly, I logged off the computer and slowly began to walk away, but not before noticing something… the person at the computer next to me was browsing his Facebook. And the person next to him? Not browsing Facebook… but he could have been.

Paranoia aside, I remembered my first search through the lobby, and realized that more than half of the people using library computers were sporting the characteristic blue bar and trite logo of Facebook.

Not cool.

Not even remotely nice.

That’s bad bull, I’m pretty confident about that. (If it isn’t, it should be.)

And, so? The moral of the story? Use Facebook in Evans/’s/s’s and you’re being a terrible person, the kind of person that’s helping make someone who is bound to be unable to find the book of their dreams even more dejected.

Thanks and Gig ‘em.