
As I was sitting in Olin at about 8:05 on Sunday night, minding my own business—which was, at the time, a Physics problem set—a loud, authoritative voice broke the usually monastic silence of the second floor. Initially, I was pretty annoyed. I’m having enough trouble applying Kepler’s laws of planetary motion without your help, you selfish jerk. Come on—THIS IS A LIBRARY!
As I stewed in my anger, I realized that this wasn’t a case of a couple of idiots talking too loudly—this was something serious. I got up and walked over to the door from the second floor stacks to the stairwell, where the commotion was. When I saw a group of three or four Public Safety officers standing over a young man in a chair, I stopped worrying that my laptop would be stolen in my absence, and my Wesleying blogger’s instinct took over: I started eavesdropping.
The officers were grilling the guy who, at this point, I thought was a student. They wanted him to take them to his car. However, the man seemed to have ‘forgotten’ where he had parked it. Then, they started to ask about a silver digital camera. Apparently he had been taking pictures of something he shouldn’t have been. By now, the man, an average looking guy, was hunched over in his seat. When he spoke, his flat, unexpressive voice delivered short, terse sentences. He sounded trapped.