It's almost 10 am on a Monday morning, and I'm sitting in a coffee shop on Sheffield. There is only one other customer in the shop, a girl sitting on a sofa with her laptop.

I open iTunes, and iTunes is kind enough to show me any shared playlists I have access to. And there, highlighted in blue on the left side of my screen, is Leema.

The concept of shared playlists in iTunes when you're on the same wireless connection with someone is an odd thing. I don't know Leema. I've never seen her before in my life. But I get to look at all the music she has on her computer, and by looking at her choices I immediately get a sense of her. She likes The Cure a lot. And Bjork. She has the Garden State soundtrack, but what twenty-something doesn't? She has Journey's Greatest Hits, but from looking at her I'm guessing she owns it ironically. And she seems to have a collection of Jewish Klezmer music.

She has a small stash of This American Life episodes, and I find an interesting looking one and start listening to it. As usual, Ira expounds in a nasally voice, and the interviewee shares some private details of their life. And then, about 20 minutes through the episode I'm listening to, the talking stops.

I've been disconnected from Leema.

I look up to see that she has closed her laptop, is putting it in her bag, and in a minute she will have walked out of the coffee shop.

iTunes shared playlists giveth, and iTunes shared playlists taketh away.