Behold the Marvels of Club UGL . . .

...in which, on a Monday, when the DPL main branch is closed and Club UGL is busier than normal, and on the hottest day of the year, in the midst of a siren-and-strobe-light extravaganza with all the visual and aural pleasures of a fourth-rate pop tart concert, I have the pleasure of telling Cranky Telephone Lady that I am hanging up to pursue more interesting activities, such as evacuating the library

…in which, using a distinctly unlibrarianly voice, I shout over the cacophony of the siren-‘n’-strobe extravaganza instructing people to pack up their belongings and leave the building

…in which I shout over the din of the siren-‘n’-strobe extravaganza AND patrons’ grumblings that no, really, they need to pack up their belongings and leave the building

…in which, while (mandatorily) standing inside, herding patrons toward the doors, I explain to reluctant passersby, over the racket of the siren-‘n’-strobe extravaganza and patrons’ grumblings and the building supervisor’s evacuation announcement over the speaker, that no, I don’t know how long this will be, but yes, I really must insist that they leave the building

…in which, finally standing outside, I watch with wonderment and awe as the oblivious and the self-important walk up to building, stare at the few hundred people milling in the courtyard, tilt their heads and listen with a slight look of confusion, and attempt to swan or storm their way into the building

…in which I, with my intimidating 5’1” frame and menacing high school looks, join ranks with the other ladies of Club UGL, now turned bouncers of UGL (maximum height: 5’5”), to block the doors and assure people that, yes, they must wait outside until we have been given the all-clear. . . no, it doesn’t matter how urgently they need to update their MySpace profiles . . . yes, you do need to back away from the building . . . no, you may not sit on the window sill. . . because those are the rules . . . no . . . no . . . yes . . . no. . . only in months ending in “R”

…in which, having determined that someone pulled the fire alarm in the unlocked loading dock, and in the absence of flames and smoke, the responding police officers inform us that the siren-‘n’-strobe extravaganza will be shut off shortly and give the all clear

…in which, despite the siren ‘n’ strobe extravaganza, stampede back into the library to unpack their belongings, spread out their stuff, update their MySpace profiles, grab a community computer, and even occasionally to open a book or write a paper

...in which a patron, attempting to be helpful and thinking that perhaps I might not have noticed, shouts at me over the din of the siren-‘n’-strobe extravaganza that “the alarm” is still going off and wonders if I might be able to “do something about that” (Answer: no)

…in which a growing number of students, having discovered that the study room doors locked behind them when they evacuated the building, gather in front of the InfoDesk waiting while I search for someone with keys

…in which, after experiencing the wonder and glory of the siren ‘n’ strobe extravaganza for 10 minutes, much to everyone’s relief relative peace finally descends over Club UGL

…in which the patrons of Club UGL are once again jarred into inaction just minutes later when the smell of burning rubber and electrical outfittings wafts gently through the air and the siren-and-strobe extravaganza begins yet again

…in which, in my unlibrarianly voice and over the hullabaloo of the siren-‘n’-strobe extravaganza and patrons’ grumblings and the building supervisor’s evacuation announcement over the speaker, I must explain to the two-thirds of patrons who seem to have forgotten the building evacuation skills they learned just 20 minutes ago that yes, now would be a good time to leave the building . . . yes, you really do have to back away from the building . . . no, you still cannot sit on the window sill . . . no . . . no . . . yes . . . no. . .seriously, back up

…in which, though amused, I ignore one persistent individual who wonders aloud in my general direction whether he might sit inside the building until we’re sure there’s an emergency, in order to better tap into the wireless network

…in which the bouncers of Club UGL and I explain repeatedly that no, we don’t know how long this will take…we don’t know if we will be able to go back in 10 minutes…no, we don’t know if we’ll be able to go back in 15 minutes…don’t know about 20 minutes either…see that library right over there? You can go there

…in which some of the Crazy CATs and shadier patrons of Club UGL decide that glaring at the bouncers of Club UGL will help the building staff to diagnose all the ills of the building and thus hasten their return to the community access computers

…in which, while waiting for the acrid stench of a burned out ventilation fan motor to dissipate, the police officers join the bouncers of Club UGL in guarding the doors and discuss share their insight and wisdom on some of the finer headcases of Club UGL, especially everyone’s favorite creeping staring “student”

…in which for the next several days patrons passing the InfoDesk ask whether it’s safe to come in the building and whether the siren ‘n’ strobe extravaganza will start up again and then burst into laughter

Long Live Club UGL!