After school my brother, John, stays after for cross country practice. John, as well as some of his cross country buddies, is part of my ride home. Therefore I am forced to stay after as well. This leaves me with a couple hours each day where I am stuck in and around Good Counsel's fabulous campus. My friend Stephanie, whose sister also runs cross country, and I have been spending this time at the library across the street completing our homework.

The other day we were sitting at a table in the middle of the library, books open in front of us, with pens in our hands, trying to do our homework, but occasionally stopping to ask one another a question, or comment on some random occurrence. Now, we might have been talking just a little bit louder than acceptable in a library, but we were not making a scene or disrupting any one from doing their job, when out of the blue, a woman who looks about 40, wearing an oversized "The Who" t-shirt with frizzy hair comes up to our group holding a notebook in her arm, and pen in hand, proceeding to ask us a question. I thought it might be the beginning of an interview, but I could not have been more wrong.

"What school do you guys go to?" where her exact words.

"Good Counsel" We replied simultaneously, thinking, surely she must have heard of our high school before, it's right across the street. Not to mention the fact that approximately one quarter of the people present at the library were all wearing the same boring uniform. To say the least, we were not prepared for the response we got to this simple answer.

"Good Counsel," she repeats, "I'll be sure to put that school on my 'bad list.'" Now, as she begins to walk away with the most serious expression on her face, Stephanie and I burst out laughing naively believing she was joking. Obviously, judging by the impression on her face, we were dead wrong.

All three of us were in shock. Was this lady serious? What had we ever done to her to give her the impression, one that she so blatantly had, that we were the scum of the earth? It's not like we were freshman!? Quickly, thinking back to the time we had spent at the library that day, I could not pin point one thing to explain her words. None of our cell phones had gone off, nor did we have little screaming children accompanying us, begging for help, as other people did.

I look down the aisle and see her pointing at us, while conversing with someone and ducking into a row of books blocking her from our view. Now we were worried. Was she going to get all of Good Counsel's student's population banned from the library for simply chatting! I did not really see this as a possibility, but her intensity kept us from making any noise louder than a whisper for the remainder of our stay at the library. We did notice her leaving the upper level toward the end of our stay, but we refused to take any chances. That lady was just way too sketchy!

My point? Never talk in a library, or if you are so compelled to do so, be prepared to deal with the consequences in the form of scary women asking obvious questions.