What time is it?

So this is probably my favorite Ely anecdote so far, and happened even before I moved in. First off, I should probably note that the people in this town are all but frothing at the mouth with friendliness, at least those over 50. There's also a seemingly endless supply of matronly women eager to give me tips on whatever I'm doing the moment they happen to be walking past me. Apparently I radiate the deer in the headlights look of a rudderless charity case who needs some mothering. I have been good n' mothered in virtually every local establishment I have entered, most notably in the spice aisle of the grocery store while picking out dill.
On this particular afternoon however, I was in the public library taking advantage of the free wifi and sitting in a childrens' rocking chair in the Minnesota Room, which is about the size of a closet and filled almost exclusively with birding and plant books. The knees of the elderly employee who was holding dominion over the library that afternoon dodder into my field of vision, followed by his face as he inserts it between mine and my laptop screen.
"Do you know what time it is?"
I had no idea what time it was. Panic. He was definitely about to say something along the lines of 'We closed an hour ago, it's time for you to take your personal computer and get the hell out of my library.'
"Uh, it's um, I think it's like..."
"It's CHOCOLATE time!" He hands me a chocolate bar he'd been hiding behind his back then turns and dodders out of the room.
Frankly it was the best possible answer to that question I could have imagined.

Post Script: Today, the same man doddered back into the Minnesota Room to tell me that he thinks the guy who just vacated the other room must roll in a garbage truck before he comes to the library because he smells so bad. I think the Old Man of the Library and I are friends.