I was minding my own business in a Philadelphia area public library, researching some background material on a certain patrician American author, when one of the local entrepreneurial personal entertainment professionals disturbed my efforts. She laid herself out on the library table in front of me, advertising her services. Quite pretty she was, and I enthusiastically agreed to allay her current accounting related difficulties. So we retired to a comfy little mid-town hotel room for the remainder of the afternoon, and early evening.
I traded off my task of finishing "Vidal in Venice" to another. After reading her review here, I'm not inclined to pick it up again.
I regularly visit that same library, though.