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NEW YORK CITY -- Manhattanites often express envy for the life of a freelancer: the freedom, the flexibility, the chance to lounge in pajamas all day. But go into any Starbucks and you'll encounter legions of freelancers who obviously can't handle the many distractions that present themselves to anyone toiling at home. The two of us (one working on a book, the other on a doctoral dissertation) found over the last two years that we couldn't even handle the distractions of Starbucks. So we made a pact to meet each day at the main branch of the New York City Public Library, and enforce steely work habits on each other.
We reasoned that the library's grand main reading room would bring "seriousness" to any project. It also offers more light than most Manhattan apartments. But if we were seeking a quiet working environment, we quickly found that many of our fellow library patrons wanted something rather different.
Some were there in search of love. Within two weeks of beginning our routine, one of us received a marriage proposal from an etymologist claiming "independent wealth." (The suggestion of matrimony actually came after a proposal to accompany the fellow to Tahiti. Honeymoon then marriage, you might say.) The idea did not appeal.
Another middle-aged gentleman tried to elicit help from both of us on separate occasions. He told one of us that he was blind and needed assistance saving his work onto a computer disk. In the weeks that followed we noticed that he seemed to have no problem seeing well enough to select only young, attractive women to help him with his technical problems.
One young woman we saw regularly at the library kept herself entertained by looking at photos of herself until closing time. There was no one else in the photos, you understand. Another patron had attached an illustration of himself to the top of his laptop. ...