As you may or may not recall, all the way back in May, I reported on the graffiti issue of the women's bathroom at the Carnegie Library. Not long after that, this sign popped up in the lobby:

(This is where an amateur would say something smug like "Well, well, well", but as a professional, I'll just move on and let that speak for itself.)
All summer long, library patrons had to schlep themselves and their full bladders up to the second floor bathrooms. This is an example of how sometimes life is hard. However, life got even harder as the first floor bathrooms weren't open until AFTER the August 15 deadline. Somehow citizens kept from rioting and I can confirm that the library has not been turned into book burning pit.
Let's be honest, I'm not entirely sure most people know what books are, much less go to the library, so here are some visual evidence of the improvements.


As you can see, the walls are now this slate rock grey and the doors are black with little white flecks. I'm not sure exactly sure what the grey rock stuff is made of, but it makes the bathroom feel like a doctor's office. (This might be shocking news, but I am not an interior designer, so don't look here for technical terms.)
Will this cut down on graffiti? Or will people turn elsewhere and scribble on the walls of other parts of the library? As those on the television news have said while holding giant microphones: "We will keep you updated on the situation as it unfolds."
But that wasn't the only change for library patrons. Meet the new parking meter.

The first time I used this parking meter, it elicited two emotions which can best be described as !!! and ???. They accept credit cards (!!!) but not dollar bills (???). With a credit card, time blocks must be purchased in hour increments (????). Most maddening of all, the car license plate number must be entered first (????????), preventing individuals from giving their passes to a stranger if there is extra time left, thus killing good citizenship.
As you can see, it's quite an emotional experience.
However, not as emotional as the notes left for the mayor on the previous meter:

No word on whether the individual born in 1955 lived to see the new meters. This story is still developing.
And finally, I'm not saying that I'm a library journalist, but if questioned, I would say that I prefer the term "librarnalist" (emphasis on the "rar").