I love visiting the library.

Maybe its just the seemingly endless shelves of books, that oddly-comforting smell (is it the air-conditioning there?), the silence and the nice parquet/carpeted floor.

But more than the peace and quiet, more than the volumes of agatha christie books and the uncountable trashy, ditzy romance novels which I can borrow ALL FOR FREE, I love going to the library with friends who share my love of reading.

You learn a lot at the library.

About other countries, other cultures, other people who lead such separate, exciting, out-of-this-world lives, about Man's psyche, his beliefs, his ideals, his ugliness, his beauty.

But when you go with your friends, you learn about them: the books they like/dislike, the books they read when they were young, the books they were reading last month........

Each of those tattered, yellowed pages have stories to tell: stories of how the hero saves the damsel in distress, how the detective solves the crime, and also how the vampire prince and Julian (are they the same person??) would melt Karen's and Melissa's hearts, how Pamela would sigh over Jamie's latest act of bravado, how Farida would spend nights enchanted by the spell with which J.K. Rowling would spin her tale of Harry's latest adventures at Hogwarts, and how Mer would be curled up on her bed with a box of tissues, crying over some soppy love story by Julie Garwood.

Today, Mel, Karen and I went to the library. (Shhhhh... don't tell the supes)

They literally plonked themselves in front of the Night World series and started fighting for the books. Two 19-year-old, very mature and demure looking young ladies clawing each other over a fantasy series they read in their early teens.

It was a sight for any friend to behold. Pity I didn't have a camera then.

Blackmailing people is a very lucrative business these days.

There's simply no denying it. I love the library. Especially when I go there with friends.