I Wasn't Looking At Porn!

I wasn’t looking at porn, although the staff at the Oregon State Valley Library may claim differently. The question up for debate in the matter was not what constitutes pornography but rather, what exactly constitutes looking?” Now I accept that everyone sees a situation from their own point of view, but I maintain that the following events are true to the best of my recollection and I leave the judgement of this matter up to you, the humble reader.

It was December 2004 and I was sitting in the library computer lab, terminal 84 to be exact. I had just finished a 22 page paper on conflict resolution – albeit the dumbest and worst paper I had ever written. The assignment: explain in detail a conflict currently going on in one’s life and explain through the use of various conflict resolution and mediation techniques the methods one could use to resolve the matter. Since the only conflict I had at the time was my conflict over writing a 22 page paper on a conflict I opted to write about my conflict over being assigned to write a 22 page paper about a conflict I wasn’t having. (I got an A.)

At any rate, there I sat, putting the finishing touches on my paper. I hit print and walked, with a rather robust spring in my step for someone who had been up for over 2 days, to the printing kiosk. I actually managed to smile as I pulled my paper from the printer and put a staple, just so in the top left hand corner. I walked back to terminal 84 and checked the time. I had 10 minutes before I was meeting my boyfriend Jensen so I figured I’d check my email one last time.

In my exhaustion and delirium I typed the web address wrong. Simple mistake, easily corrected most days. But today was not most days. Today, I typed hotmale.com instead of hotmail.com. And instead of being greeted by the nice blue and white MSN log in page and reports from my mom of the latest case of my grandfather's gout and a box of cookies being sent in the mail, I was greeted by the largest manhood I had ever seen. Not only was this man’s “hood” displayed ever so abundantly on my screen, surrounding what I assumed was a doctored picture, was one of those obnoxious flashing yellow boxes with the words, “YOU WANT IT NOW” flashing over it in a sunshine array of colors.

Now, the logical thing to do would be to simply and quickly navigate away from the page. But that didn’t work. Ok, so I hit the little x on the top right corner and still nothing. I tried to remain calm, I did. But I’m an east coast girl in a west coast world. So, I began to panic. I quickly thought to simply log off the computer. I went to the START bottom on the bottom left and the dialogue box opened and I thought, “I’m home free – only to have my hopes dashed by that stupid arrow. You know the little arrow, the little arrow that guides you on your journey through cyberspace – it was locked and now the log off box was stuck open on the bottom of my screen too. Unfortuneatly the box was not large enough to cover the cock flashing in the middle of my screen. I quickly turn to the pimply young man next to me and I tell him my computer screen is stuck. He says try to hit Escape. I hit that button like 30 times and …nothing. I tell him it’s not working. He says let me take a look and he pokes his head around the corner of that divider wall that pretends to issue privacy to co-eds as the work but really only serve to post memos by librarian staff that read, “Any student caught looking at porn in the computer lab will have their computer usage privledges revoked.” This young man’s head pokes around the corner of our divider wall and he says, “Whoa, lady you’re like hard core!”
“No I’m not, it just came up on my screen and I want it gone.”
‘He just laughed and said ask the help desk.
The help desk, the help desk, yes, this was a solution. A desk designed for the sole purpose of helping people like me – those us non savy computer type people. Those of us who don’t spend their nights playing dungeons and dragons and grad theft auto, yes the help desk would help.

I got up from my chair and quickly and calmly walked up to the help desk, only to have my hopes of an easy solution to my dilemma being delivered by some nerdy computer geek dashed. I was instead confronted by Constance – the white- haired old lady librarian who wore those squeaky shoes and rather tight cordoroy pants for a old lady librarian. Constance the women with pictures of her 20 grandkids and her latest trip to the Grand Canyon on display on her desk. Constance who had a hard candy dish on the desk for those of us seeking her guidance and assistance in the wee hours of the morning. Constance, the women who I was about to ask to remove the porn from my computer screen. This was really not going well. I swallowed hard. I quickly explained that my computer was frozen. I didn’t provide any other details. Constance asked what happened and I said I didn’t know. I told her I was trying to navigate to my email site and it just froze. She then delivered doom, “That’s been happening lately”, she cackled. “Let’s go over there and see what I can figure out. “
• “Noooooooooo”, I bellowed. “Can’t you just tell me how to fix it and I’ll go take care of it.”
• “Well, I can’t tell you how to fit it without seeing it. Let’s just go over there. What’s your station number?”
• “Really it’s no big deal”, I replied. “I’ll just come back later.”
• “Well, if you leave I still have to fix it for the next person” she said as she came around the counter and started heading in the direction she saw me come from. “What computer were you at?” she asked over her shoulder.
• “Number 84” I mumbled almost inaudibly.
Constance’s shoes made that muffled squelching sound that squeaky shoes will make on carpet as she padded over to my terminal. She came around the corner to walk down my aisle with me schlumping behind her. The young boy sitting at the terminal next to mine had this silly grin on his face. I wanted to kill him.
Constance turned around and said to me, “Don’t worry, we’ll fix this together. Let’s see what we have here.”
And she turned around only to be confronted by “the neon yellow, you want it now picture of the that mans hood”.
• “Oh my god. Oh my, oh dear, Oh my. Young lady”, she stammered, “You are NOT allowed to look at pornographic materials in the library.”
Now, when a little grey-haired old lady says the word porn, the world stops. Everything grew suddenly quite and I felt the eyes of every co-ed in the room on me.
• “I wasn’t looking at porn,” I declared
• “Yes she was”, said the pimple young man seated next to me, a smile escaping from his acrid mouth.
• “You shut up” I yelled.
• “I’m going to have to revoke your library privledges young lady”, Constance declared.
• “Please don’t. I wasn’t looking at porn. I was trying to check my hotmail account to see if I got any emails and I just typed the address wrong. It was a simple mistake. I really need to use the library. I’m a grad student for Christ sake” I pleaded.
• “I’m sorry but rules are rules”, she said as she wrote down the username on the bottom of my computer screen. She then tried to turn off the computer but it wouldn’t work.
• “I tried that already”, I told her.
• “Well, it looks like we are going to have to put in a work order for this and just leave it for tomorrow.”
• “WHAT????” I seemingly yelled.
• “Well, I can’t fix it. It’s stuck, we’ll just have to turn off the screen and put a do not use sign on there until the morning.”

Turn off the screen. Why didn’t I think of that? So simple, so basic, so genious.
"Follow me", Constance barked.
I grabbed my satchel and things and followed Constance back to the desk. I gave her my name and she told me my privledges would be revoked and that I would get a letter in the mail and my account would be turned off tomorrow. I begged, pleaded asked to appeal – she was unmovable. I slumped away angry, down trodden, exhausted and just pissed. I met Jensen at the doors to the library and he was like,
“Why was that little old lady yelling at you?”
I told him she took away my privileges for looking at porn. He cracked up.
"Really, you were looking at porn?"
He said this with the magical lilt in the voice that only a 24 year old man can muster when the topic of porn comes up. I told him the story and how I had to appeal this b/c I needed to use the library to write my thesis, to grade papers, to do everything! We walked home with Jensen trying to comfort me under his secretly proud eyes that it was his girlfriend who just got kicked out of the library for looking at pron.
That night as I flip flopped in bed the irony of my situation finally hit home. I was in a conflict, and finally had a 22 page worthy topic to write about.