A sacred place: Borders, Westwood.

We moved to West LA in September 1995. Borders wasn't there on Westwood yet. The problem is I don't recall what was there before Borders. It must have been irrelevant. It's like cell phones, you don't remember life before that.

Anyways, Borders was opened at some point later, I think in 1996, and that's when I found a hiding place. Sure I would go study there sometimes... upstairs at that cafeteria, and I would buy coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. Sometimes, they would burn the bagel.

But I would hide behind the stacks of the book shelves at other times and bury my head in books--for hours and hours. That's how I survived the years. Some lonely Friday, Saturday and Sundays nights even. Every time I was feeling down, I would go straight there and hide.

You can gladly call me a "bookoholic". It is an addiction like any other addiction since it is what separates you from your reality and numbs your pain

Last night as I entered the elevator, I smelled the same unique smell of coffee and bagel. The shelves have been rearranged of course, the walls repainted. But the two pay phones are still there by the bathrooms upstairs. Does anyone use them anymore?

As I walked around and browsed through some books, all of a sudden I saw him. My God, a familiar face. The guy, he has been working there forever, maybe even since day one that they opened. I felt so close to him. As if he was from my past.

I had to talk to him so I approached him and asked him a silly question. His name was Daniel. He was very helpful, very informative. He takes pride in his job and surely, he has stability in his life. At least, he has had this job for so long. I envied the stability of his life all of a sudden, and the fact that he is happy with his job.

I came out and felt happy that I had finally met Daniel after all these years. Who was it that said, "The more things change, the more they stay the same". Kinda makes sense.