I Spent 24 Hours in Fisher Fine Arts. Here's What Happened.

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Photo by Smallbones / CCO 1.0

Hours 1-3: Wow! I noticed it's pretty quiet in here. I also noticed that a lot of people around me have Warby Parker glasses and messenger bags. Other than the one guy who doesn't realize his music is so loud it's bleeding from his headphones, there isn't much activity yet.

Hours 4-6: It's still remarkably quiet in here. Even more people with Warby Parker glasses and messenger bags have entered. There must be a dress code I don't know about.

Hours 7-9: Finally, some action! A lady just ate a granola bar—which is illegal—at her table. The security guard didn't notice, but I did.

Hours 10-12: Used my detective skills to find a secret spot! If you go up the spiral staircase, there are secret carrels that make you feel like you're studying at jail's library. But, a really beautiful jail library, though!

Hours 13-15: If a book falls in Fisher Fine Arts, does it make a sound?

Hours 16-18: A lot of people here are reading Foucault, so I am going to try to read Foucault.

Hours 19-21: Foucault is so bad! Why does everyone in Annenberg always reference him?

Hours 22-24: My ears have adapted to the deafening silence and are no longer able to detect sound. Also, I entered 24 hours ago in sweats but I'm leaving with Warby Parker glasses, a messenger bag, and copies of Foucault's seminal works. Fisher Fine Arts is my new home.

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