ode to mumble cruncher.

I don't know very much about Mumble Cruncher. I know he likes the newspaper. He seems to have a lot of opinions, because he's always going over them with himself.

I know he likes espresso.

I know he really likes crunchy food.

Why me, Mumble Cruncher? I used to only see you in the opposite corner of the library, where almost no one else goes. I've been avoiding that corner, because you kind of creep me out and I can never get work done around you I didn't want to bother you. But today, you're over here, where all the desk cubicles are. Did someone kick you out?

This isn't really the best place for you, Mumble Cruncher. Your mumbling and crunching, while thoroughly your prerogative, is driving me bonkers. The emptiness of the back of the reference section really misses you. Who else will sit at those tables?*

Also... is there something special about the floor? I just figured, you know... chairs. Are all over the place. Just wondering.

*Me, that's who. Time to leave Mumble Cruncher to ponder his existence, sans my company. I wonder if he even realizes I'm here?