Library Bitch

Best in ref ... or so it seems

2008-06-25T20:43:00.003-04:00

Ah, performance reviews. How lovely they are.

Apparently, my bosses feel that I do a more than satisfactory job dealing with the patrons, despite what some anonymous fans of the blog might assume.

"[G] demonstrates an excellent understanding of patron needs, and is able to communicate with patrons of all ages, cultures and capacities with courtesy and ease."

"Although [G]'s participation level in team meetings could use some improvement, when he does speak up his contributions are always of great value and insight."

And my personal favorite:

"Many patrons have praised [G]'s kind and easy-going manner, and his sense of humour, and several have been known to explicitly request his services."

I'm guessing they haven't received any feedback from Chickie Change or the OWG. Probably most of it came from FakeTits, who still gives a flirtatious smile every time she passes the ref desk. I swear she times her visits in accordance with my ref shifts. I'd hit it, but, you're all familiar with my issues with silicone. Matters of principle always come before, well, less-principled matters, so to speak.

Anyway. Why am I sharing this? Why do you care about my review?

You don't. But I'd like to make clear that I don't write about every patron I deal with. I write about the ones who make me laugh, the ones who make me give my head a shake, and the ones I can't stand, because they're fun to write about.

The good patrons? The ones I enjoy dealing with? The "normal" people, who account for some 90% of the people I deal with daily? Why would I write about how good they were to deal with? It's boring - where's the fun in that?

Today Mr.Schneider came in looking for German-language books about Dresden. I was able to find three books for him, and he appeared to be very happy with the selection. He said "thank you", which made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Sucks, doesn't it?

So I share the humor instead, the "you'll never believe what I had to deal with today" type of stories that we all laugh about with our friends over a drink. That's what LB is ... that's all it is.

I Just Wanna Be A Rockstar!

2008-06-21T14:09:00.005-04:00

Air Band stopped by the library yesterday.

Saw him twice, actually.

At first he did his usual thing where he walked up to the mirror across from the stacks, turned up his walkman, and started playing air guitar to what sounded like Poison (although I could be mistaken - whoever it was it sounded like a shitty band).

This is what Air Band does whenever he comes in. Stands in front of the mirror, flapping around like an idiot, pretending to play guitar even though it is painfully obvious he has never played one before in his life.

We suspect he likes the attention ... playing air guitar in a public library near the self-help books is the sort of thing that will generate more than a few weird stares.

(Although at least he's in the right section of the stacks.)

Air Band is in his mid-40s, by the way. Mmm-hmm.

The second time I saw him, I was driving home and he was sitting on his bike. Right in the middle of the lane. Not peddling, just sitting there, kickstand down, right out on the road.

And he was still playing air guitar.

Yes indeed. A grown man stopped his bicycle in the middle of the road, just to play air guitar.

So I did what any other decent fellow would do in that situation. I gave him the finger and drove around him, making sure my mirror clipped him as I went by. Figured that would send him a warning, maybe he'd snap out of it and realize that coming to a dead stop, in the middle of traffic, on a very busy two-lane street, was not the brightest of ideas.

Nope. He waved. And smiled.

I clipped the hair-band-emulating bastard on purpose, and he waved and smiled ... WAVED AND SMILED ... all the while continuing to play air guitar!

Although I guess it sort of makes sense that he did. After all, the guy is a fan of Poison.

As Easy As 1-2-8 !!!

2008-06-10T19:35:00.005-04:00

How it is that people who cannot count are able to make it through life absolutely, utterly, astounds me.

Take the printer, for example. Ten cents a page. That should be easy, right? One page is 10c. Two pages are 20c. And on and on.

Well apparently, it isn't as simple as it first seems.

Yesterday, a 20-something lady with a huge pile of change (don't know her name so I'll call her "Chickie Change") decided to use the printer. Great, I thought, she's got a huge pile of change on her, she'll be fine.

Oh, how wrong I was.

A few seconds into the printing parade, Chickie Change comes up to the desk, with a rather ornery expression on her face. Uh-oh.

CC: "Your printer won't print my pages."

G: "Hmmm. Is it not printing the page clearly, or not printing anything at all?"

CC: "I told you already! It won't print my pages!"

At this point, I figured it was safe to assume she meant option # 2. Figuring there was perhaps a paper jam, I went over to the copier to take a look.

G: "Everything seems to be in working order. Did you put your money in the machine?"

CC: "Yes I did! I'm not stupid, you know!"

G [to himself]: What a bitch!

G [out loud]: "Okay, then let's try it again. Maybe there was just a glitch."

Of course, that was an out-and-out lie; I already knew what the problem was. I checked the coin machine, and indeed, there was money in it. I pushed print, and sure enough, nothing happened. Next step, check the print queue.

G: "It says here that you are printing three pages. Is that correct?"

CC [annoyingly tapping her foot]: "Ummm ... yeah."

G: "You only put twenty cents in the machine."

CC: "Your point ... ?"

G [very slowly]: "Three pages ... ten cents each ... ... ... "

CC [looking confused]: " ... ... ... "

G: "... thirty cents."

CC: "Oh. I knew that."

I did my best, I really did, but I'm pretty sure a smirk managed to sneak through my best defenses. Serves her right, to feel like an idiot. Although I'm pretty sure it's a safe guess that she's quite used to that, already.

Needless to say, Chickie Change dropped in an extra dime, and sure enough, everything printed perfectly. It's a rare day that I see someone beat as hasty an exit as she did, without even saying so much as "thanks for the help."

But that's okay. I made sure to holler "you're welcome" toward the back of her head as she was leaving. I'm nothing if not polite.

Random non-Library, non-rant post

2008-05-24T23:19:00.003-04:00

A rare sports post on LB ...

Found this interesting tidbit over at Mondesi's House:

The last time the [Pittsburgh] Penguins won the Stanley Cup:

1. Bush was in office

2. Clinton was running

3. War in IRAQ

4. Giants won the Super Bowl

5. Dominic Hasek was [a] backup goalie

My, how the times do change, don't they?

Urbanized

2008-05-05T18:44:00.011-04:00

The Urban Dictionary defines a Library Bitch as ...

... the scary old lady in the library that yells at you for moving a computer screen a lil bit. She probably has a penis.

Well, they're half right. Except that I'm not an old lady; in fact, I am not a lady at all. Which means yes, I do in fact have a penis. Although I don't particularly enjoy yelling at people at random -- I'd much rather hit them in the ear with a wooden stick. That's just me.

But let's not get into an argument over semantics.

I'd just like to say that I think an amended definition may be in order:

Library Bitch
A librarian who treats stupid people the way they ought to be treated: as stupid people.

The way I figure it, my dog is smarter than some of our patrons, and he still gets yelled at (and sometimes smacked across the nose) when he does something stupid. So, if logic is to hold, then in that case ...

... well, you get the idea.

World's not fair, man.

Coffee Shop Librarianship

2008-05-03T23:35:00.014-04:00

I am a Librarian. Apparently, that label applies, everywhere I go. Guess it's the same for all of us.

Yesterday, I was sitting in my local [CoffeeShop], enjoying a fine lovefest with a wonderfully seductive Guatemalan brew (is there any other?), when I overheard the following:

Waitress: What's new, dude?

Dude: I hate government websites. Ever try and use one?

Waitress: No ... why are they so awful?

Dude: I need to get a certain legal document, but I can't find it anywhere online. And really don't want to pay for some ripoff lawyer to find it for me. So much for easy access, huh? Bunch of pricks.

Something in that conversation made me spring into action. It was like I saw a beam of light in the sky, outlining the symbol of a question mark, which I suppose is the librarian's equivalent to the Bat Signal. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my feet and on my way to save an individual from the ever-dreaded Lack of Information.

G: Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. Today's your lucky day; I might be able to help you out.

Dude: Huh? Who the fuck are you?

G: I ain't Alice, Smokie (he actually got the joke). What was it you needed, if you don't mind me asking?

Dude: Oh ... uh ... it was ... er ... I have a legal issue I'm dealing with, but the law was amended recently, and I need the old statute and summary of changes in order to make my case. Why, are you a lawyer or something?

G: Even better. I'm a librarian.

Dude: [blank stare]

G: Li-brar-i-an. I work downtown at [Library]. We have copies of every statute, and all the amendments, in our reference area. Won't cost you a dime ... well, other than the photocopier fee.

Dude: You guys have that stuff? I thought you were just books, you know, like romance novels and shit.

G: Most people do, dude. Most people do.

So, the dude thanked me and went on his merry way. It struck me, as I walked out of [CoffeeShop] to head into work, that librarianship doesn't really end when the refdesk shift is complete; our workplace duties become ingrained, and a part of our daily lives. This is frightening -- it might actually mean that I enjoy what I do for a living!

(Although, deep down, despite the occasional rant which may seem contrary, I actually do enjoy helping others learn -- including such idiots as FakeTits and The OWG. If I can somehow, in some way, aid in their development from Idiot to Less Of An Idiot, I figure I'll have done the planet a huge favor in the process.)

Later in the day, I asked the ref staff if anyone had come in for any legal documents, and they mentioned that some dude (yes, they called him "dude" also) had photocopied a number of statutes a couple hours earlier. Cool, another person who now knows the library is more than just books! One by one, we'll eventually convert them all.

(Geez, now I'm starting to sound like the government!)

So keep an eye out for that Bat Signal -- er, Lib Signal, that is -- you never know when you will see that giant question mark lit up in the sky, signalling your call to duty to inform a lost soul of the breadth of information available at the library.

Rant Mode: Water, On The Rocks, With A Twist

2008-04-16T01:09:00.016-04:00

Yup.

There is a water bar. A water bar. As in, they serve - you guessed it - water. Such a business actually does exist.

WTF?

Whose idea of a night out, honestly, involves sitting around and drinking water? Do people actually believe they can taste the difference between over 65 brands of bottled water, some of which go for upwards of $55 per bottle?

Now, I know you're probably expecting me to call the place a ripoff, or a scam. However, I refuse to do so - it's actually quite a brilliant business model. There are idiots everywhere, and this business has not only recognized that fact; they have managed to successfully develop a niche, and foster a new trend, within that most desirable market segment: the moron.

I mean, how the guy who spends $55 on a f**king bottle of water even manages to live his life with some measure of success is beyond me. Probably the same guy who coughed up the extra five-and-a-half grand to get a Saturn Sky, even though it is the exact same car as the Pontiac Solstice.

Point is, there is no one standing at the glacier catching the water in each individual bottle as it drips from the ice. There is no magical band of elves hanging around some mountain spring, filling bottles while singing a merry little tune. But the label gets 'em, every time, with that straight-from-the-fairy-tales fantasy of some noble kingdom of lilies and gold up in the mountains, the last vestige of pure water in all the land.

Truth is, the bottled water industry is the biggest crock known to mankind; it's a greater deception than Edison ever managed to pull (newsflash: those inventions weren't exactly his, he just took the credit). So let me ask you, how do you know where it really came from?

But it's been filtered, you say. Great. And purified, too, before going into the bottle. Right on, bro.

Still, I must ask:

What type of filtration was used, exactly? How was the water purified? Minerals? Which ones? Which mountain stream did the water come from? The one with the copper mine upriver? Or the one whose mouth is an aluminum tap? And doesn't the plastic bottle effectively defeat the purpose of the filtration? Doesn't that sh*t leech into - and poison - the water?

Now, I'm not knocking bottled water altogether. Yeah, it serves its purpose on long car or camping trips, and during rock concerts where you can't bring in your own because the stadium is getting a cut of all the concessions. Fair enough.

What I am knocking is the idiot who insists on drinking nothing but bottled water, because tap water has too many chemicals. Truth be told, most tap water is actually quite harmless. The chlorine content (which kills pretty much all harmful bacteria) may not conform to everyone's palette, but a decent filtration system in the home solves that issue, too.

In fact, a simple under-the-sink Reverse Osmosis unit with a carbon filter will strip out virtually everything, giving basically as pure a water as you can get. In other words, the same water you pay $2+ per bottle for, can be yours for a one-time investment of $400-$1000, which pays for itself in under a year in bottled water savings alone, without the added bonus of the poison plastic.

(To counter the poison plastic issue, some manufacturers are introducing glass bottles. Less of a health issue, and a great excuse to jack the price another 5 bucks for a product which is free in the customer's own home.)

But some people just want to be eclectic. They want to be hip. They must be a part of the latest trend. (Man, TV really has made us an insecure bunch, hasn't it?) So off to the water bar they go, spending more money in an evening than they would at a regular bar, in order to taste water, pretending to be high class, staying completely sober, and having to pee a lot.

Gee, sounds like a great time, fellas!

Spend for the trend, man. Spend for the trend. Be hip, be boss, all that. Me? I'm cool with the tap. I know my filtration system; I know exactly what I'm getting. That bottle could be filled with the spit of the factory workers -- how the hell would you know? Could you?

And six glasses a day? That's gotta be tough to keep up at a minimum $2 a pop. That's roughly $360/month you're spending on water, if you're keeping to current health standards (because you only drink bottled water for the health aspects, not because the TV told you so, right?). My last water bill, covering a bi-monthly billing cycle, was less than one-third of that.

And no, you don't "get what you pay for", when you pay more for a bottle of water. The price point doesn't indicate higher quality, it indicates that you are a dumbass.

Wait, scratch that.

Come to think of it, you are getting what you paid for: ripped off.

So enjoy your 500mL of [insert nature and deity metaphors here] water, folks, be it the two-buck variety or the fifty-five. Rest assured, I'll be enjoying the same ... for about 4 cents.

As for the water bar, well, I think they have taught us all a valuable lesson:

We're in the wrong business, folks.

Dis/Order

2008-04-04T19:21:00.003-04:00

- Crumbs reside on the table.

- Dishes are piling in the sink.

- The coffee maker hasn't been cleaned since perhaps 1994.

- Dust bunnies are breeding rampantly in the corners, not unlike real bunnies.

- The food in the fridge no longer qualifies as food.

No, this is not a description of my house. This is worse; this is ...

... The Staff Kitchen.

You know, you'd think that librarians, of all people, whose entire profession rests on the merits of precision and order, would be able to keep a kitchen relatively clean.

This must be some sort of a private taboo, the one area of their lives where disorder and chaos can reign, where they can forgo their focus on order and just let the mess pile up. Where they can let someone else take care of establishing order, for once.

Problem is, when everyone starts thinking "someone else", there is suddenly no one left to do it. Hence the sorry state of the Staff Kitchen.

Librarians and disorder? Quite the irony, isn't it?

It's a good thing I don't eat in there. Otherwise I'd feel guilty, and perhaps inclined to do my part. Fact is, rarely do I ever step foot in that room, unless The Hot Girl happens to be there; which, of course, goes without saying. Otherwise, I make an active point to stay the hell away from that germfest.**

(** The kitchen, not the Hot Girl. Or so I hope.)

Pro-Bono

2008-04-02T23:18:00.008-04:00

Some dude walked in to the library wearing track pants, today.

This, in itself, is not unusual by any stretch in a mostly lower-middle-class town.

This particular dude was, however, quite decidedly pro-bono ... if you catch my drift.

Coulda done without seeing that. Big-time.

(Pardon the pun.)

At this point, I figure that I can do one of two things. I can either keep it to myself, and wallow in the horror of the scene alone ...

... or I can share my misery with you.

At least your newfound horror will bring me a few laughs. Just knowing my misery will be shared sounds miles more fun than trying in vain to suppress the memory.

Sold!

And as an added bonus, we now have fostered a new connection, just between us. Next time you see a guy with an obvious woody tenting in his polyester trappings, you'll think of me; and when I see the same, I'll think of you. See? Isn't that cool? You and me, forever connected by some perverted slob's ill-timed rush of blood. Oh, what a wonderful world.

And people say I'm an asshole. Honestly, I have no idea why.

Sweet dreams, folks.

Thong Man

2008-03-16T23:51:00.015-04:00

Thong Man came into the library this past weekend. Thong Man, of all people!!! I hadn't seen that guy in years.

Way back when, nearly half my life ago, the high-school-aged G used to hang at a small, overcrowded beach tucked along the backroads, about thirty miles outside the town. That's where I first saw Thong Man, whom I would come to recognize as a regular at that particular sandspot.

Thong Man, quite obviously, wore a thong. But not just any thong. This was a leopard-print thong. Yes, that's right. Yellow, orange, and black leopard-print, like the seat covers in some pimp's decked-out 1976 Lincoln Mark IV.

But it gets worse. Thong Man, I'm guessing, was a fan of Fabio. Or quite possibly Harlequin Romance, I'm not entirely sure which. Either way, he had the fully-styled Fabio hair, and a body that was beyond unnaturally muscular, which only a serious dosage of steroids could have built. It was impossible to NOT notice the guy, and he knew it.

Thong Man had a lady friend who would usually accompany him to the beach. Thong Woman, we called her, though I always thought Thongette was more PC. Some called them Tarzan and Jane, but I was never a fan of that story, so Thong Man and Thongette it was. She was a beauty, too ... fit but not too muscular (still feminine), with long wavy dirty blonde hair and no visible signs of cosmetic surgery of any type. Excellent.

She, too, wore a thong bikini. Matched his, actually. Spot for freakin' spot.

And here I thought the whole leopard-print thing died with disco. My bad.

Back to the weekend.

Seeing Thong Man, in the library, fully clothed (thankfully), brought back several memories which I had, until now, successfully repressed. I wish he hadn't come in; man, he's gotten old fast. He's still doing the Fabio thing, except that these days the hairline is in full retreat mode. There are few things sadder than a long-haired man who refuses to admit he is losing his hair. The shirt he wore was far too tight, and revealed a serious case of the ever-dreaded man boobs. Gravity's a bitch, fellas, no matter how many steroids are involved.

I wondered, for a moment, how Thongette was doing, whether gravity had struck her also, and whether the years had taken them away from the leopard-print stylings and into a new design of choice. Or were they still Tarzan and Jane?

Of course, as soon as I thought that, my mind naturally wandered to another particular notion: was Thong Man wearing a thong today, in the library? Was it the leopard-print thong we'd all come to know and hate all those years ago at the beach? And why the hell did I want to know this???

Thong Man found his books (not books on Tarzan, or leopards, surprisingly), checked them out, and left. I'm quite sure he didn't recognize me; why would he have? Unlike him, nothing about me really stood out those days. I was just your average skinny, pale, high school kid making fun of a man in a thong and staring all googley-eyed at his leopard-thonged lady friend. Those were the days.

Before leaving, Thong Man paused, turned toward me, and approached the desk. He ran his hand through his receding Fabio-styled hair, as several strands drifted aimlessly down to the floor.

"Pardon me", he began. "This may sound like an odd question, but ...

... do you guys have any Harlequins?"

Brand New Day, Same Old Sh*t

2008-03-16T23:30:00.006-04:00

Been a while. Haven't had much to complain about lately ...

... except:

- The guy we caught masturbating in the public washroom. That was a new one. Won't go into any details; suffice it to say, at least he cleaned up after himself. That, too, was a new one.

- I was given a hard time by some for taking a sick day for the first time in over two months. In the meantime, there are other staff who seem to miss an average of one day every two weeks. How many sick days do they get, and how can I get in on that action?

- Tweens in the library. They seem to serve no purpose except to run in circles while simultaneously screeching at an extraordinary decibel level. Honestly, why can't we just be allowed to hit them with a stick? Worked wonders in the 50s, or so my father tells me.

- Vendors. They can't design a halfway-decent ILS or database, and don't seem to care to listen as to why we feel their products are inferior. They're in the business of software development; you'd think free upgrades addressing user concerns would be SOP. Of course, I only once worked in software development, for a vendor, so what the hell do I know?

- And I still don't have my new chair. Bastards.

So, yeah, nothing new, I guess. Just another couple weeks at the office.

The Keyword on the Street

2008-02-26T23:03:00.013-05:00

Took a moment just now to look at my stats software; haven't done a keyword analysis in some time. It's truly hilarious the things some people are searching for out there.

The following are the ten most recent unintentional search terms used, which led people to Library Bitch. What I mean by 'unintentional' is, these people were most likely not searching for this blog. Intentional searches for LB, like the site name or post names, have been left off the list.

The Ten Most Recent Unintentional Searches Leading People To Visit Library Bitch

librarian gangsta
bitch chinese symbol
beautiful faketits
nyc bitch committee
picking up librarians
librarian fetish
how to pick up bitches
mervin watley
bitch pole
who is that bitch G

The coolest one, I think, is "Mervin Watley". Some dude Googled the name, probably his own, and wound up at the relatively innocuous
Merv Watley post. Poor fella.

And no, I don't even want to know what the hell a "bitch pole" is.

--

FYI along similar lines:

"Strap-on Sex" is apparently an authorized LC subject heading.
Who knew?

See for yourself at LOC.

Elderly Woman In Front Of The Counter In A Small Town

2008-02-26T22:08:00.005-05:00

I swear I recognize your face ...

Or so she said. In all honesty, I had no clue who she was.

Still don't, for that matter.

But she knew me. She was sure of it. I'd helped her find some obscure books about a month ago, she said.

Nope, I still had no idea who she was. But of course, like a good little librarian, I played along and feigned memory.

"Oh, yes, I remember, you're uh ... uh ... it's on the tip of my tongue ..."

"Angela."

"Yes, that's it! Angela! How have you been?"

Ah, the classic tongue-tied-stutter approach. Works every time.

So in the end, she was very happy and I was much relieved. But I was still quite sure I had never seen her before in my life.

More than likely she was thinking of the other guy who works here (yes, there are only two of us), even though he looks nothing like me. Then again, at her age, memory and eyesight lapses can be forgiven, I suppose.

(I mean, after all, she's still a heck of lot sharper than the OWG.)

Overheard

2008-02-23T17:08:00.005-05:00

WhiteTrash #1: "Can you get the wi-fi at your place?"

WhiteTrash #2: "No, I have to come here to use the email. Which sucks 'cuz they block ev'rythin' good."

WhiteTrash #1: "I know. I wanna get on the email, but I can't do it here 'cuz I heard they track 'n sh*t so they can read what you write."

WhiteTrash#2: "Oh sh*t. You sure?"

WhiteTrash#1: "Dude, they're a public library, so they're govment. Gov-ment. They've prob'ly read ev'ry email you ever writt'n."

I love idiots. They make my day, every time. If it weren't for people like these, this job would really suck the life out of me.

Mic Check

2008-02-23T16:50:00.009-05:00

Why is it that no guest speakers can seem to figure out the microphone/speaker correlation?

These people speak publicly for a living. You'd think they'd know that standing right beside the speaker creates the sort of feedback which would make Angus Young proud. Yet, somehow, none of them seem to understand this very simple dynamic.

So now I've got a splitting headache and patrons complaining about our shoddy equipment at all of our events. Headaches and patrons are not a good combination. I've been trying to tell them, in as kind a manner possible, that the equipment is fine and the guest speakers are a bunch of idiots.

So far, this approach seems to be working; instead of knocking our equipment, people are now requesting we get intelligent guest speakers who actually know how to use the equipment.

That means the program-attending public is now open to new forms of programming, which in turn allows us to become more creative with what we offer. As a result, staff morale is at an all-time high.

Ah, the power of negative spin. Don't ever underestimate its benefits.

Morale Boost

2008-02-20T23:37:00.012-05:00

Some kid was jerking off in the computer room again. This is not entirely unusual ... that room seems to attract a lot of teens who can't control themselves at the first sight of an exposed breast.

I wonder what Freud would have to say about that?

But I digress.

The kid was so scared, when I caught him, that he got up to bolt out of there without bothering to zip, or button, up.

The result? He tripped and fell over his own pantlegs.

Needless to say, it lifted my spirits for the rest of the day. There's just something about seeing idiots fall down that warms one's soul.

It's the simple things that get us through life, honestly.

The only downside is my cellphone doesn't shoot video - and this was definitely one for the archives. The kid did a full forward flip, landed on his nose, then followed it up with a second stumble while trying to get up because his pants were still down around his ankles. And when he finally did manage to get up, he hightailed it out of there like Olympic sprinter on a fresh batch of 'roids.

(I think he might have even set a new record for the 100-yard dash along the way.)

Best. Mood-lifter. Ever.

Family Day

2008-02-18T00:28:00.003-05:00

A quick thought on the new Family Day* holiday.

Do those of us who don't have families get the day off, too?

I asked this of [Supervisor] and she looked at me like I was from another planet. I guess TradLibs** just don't have a sense of humour.

The thing is, how does a guy without a family celebrate Family Day, exactly?

Watch Family Guy DVDs?

Crank the volume on the Sly & The Family Stone collection?

Drop by the sperm bank and help someone start a family?

Eat by myself at a Family Restaurant?

Read Family Circus cartoons?

On second thought, scratch that last one. Those over-sweetened single panel drawings ruined my breakfasts for enough years in the past ... and to think, people wondered why I was such an angry kid in school.

--

* Family Day was introduced as a holiday so the politician who introduced it could get re-elected. Worked like a charm, only it turns out not everybody gets the day off as was originally suggested. Whoops.

** Traditional Librarians

Closing Time

2008-02-12T23:47:00.005-05:00

Stormy days usually call for public service closure, in the winter. Seems par for the course.

Why stay open if no patrons will be coming to the library in the bad weather? That's the usual line of reasoning they give the public, and it is completely understandable.

The truth is, the city doesn't want to face liability issues resulting from employees getting into accidents on their way home, because the building didn't close during the inclement weather, thus putting all employees at unnecessary risk. At least, that's the line of reasoning the employees are given. This, too, is completely understandable.

Sadly, this is where an unfortunate hilarity ensues.

[Library] has closed early several times this winter, during some rather severe storms.

Correction: [Library] has closed early several times this winter, during the last hour of some rather severe storms.

Oops.

It's a rather odd trend. It seems we are always three hours into a storm before closing early for the aforementioned safety reasons. Three hours!!! By that point, it can't get any less safe than it already is.

And every time - you can bet your paycheque on this, seriously - the storm ends within an hour of our closure.

Now, what part of that makes any sense whatsoever? Do the people who make these decisions not listen to the weather forecast?

As Dilbert says, there are stupid decisions and then there are management decisions. Early closures are quite clearly management decisions.

Hey, the weather forecasts have all been right on the mark, in regard to any of the storms that have forced us to close this year. If the forecast says the storm is going to last all afternoon and into the evening, perhaps closing before the evening would be a better bet ... you know, so we can still see where we're going on our drive home.

Because there is nothing worse than a crawling hour's drive home through a terrible storm after an early closure, only to have the storm end pretty much right after you get there. It's a head-smacker if there ever was one.

Too bad no one has the stones to smack the managers' heads, every now and then. Maybe then we'd actually get home while it was still somewhat safe to drive, thus adding a level of sensibility to the reasoning used for the closure in the first place.

Just a thought ...

More Committee BS

2008-02-07T10:13:00.000-05:00

"Are we a committee? Or is this just one person running the show?"

That's a paraphrase of a question raised at my last committee meeting. The question, which I was expecting, was raised immediately after I detailed to the committee, in as P.C. of a manner possible, that a key decision had been made for us by the higher-than-thous, and we would have to sit still and take it.

It was a good question.

How does one answer it, without throwing one side, or the other, under the figurative bus?

Quick answer: You can't. Heave away and hope it's a heavy bus.

The background:

[Committee] has worked steadfastly on planning multiple options for [Project]. All options have been completed, save for some minor tweaking, and are to be soon compared against each other, in the hopes that the best elements of all will be merged into what will become the course of action. Cool.

As the head of the committee, I keep all of these options stored in a location where only members of the committee have access.

[LittleBoss], who also happens to be my supervisor (and thus has access to the files), saw an opportunity to impress [BigBoss]. When [BigBoss] asked how the project was coming along, [LittleBoss] decided a game of show-and-tell was in order, despite the fact that none of these options were official, or complete, or available for anyone outside the committee to view!

So what happened? Take a guess.

[BigBoss] hated them all. [BigBoss] decided to merge the best aspects of all of the options, into one course of action. Sound familiar?

Naturally I freaked when I got wind of this. Remember, few have as much disdain for committee work as I. If these types of decisions are to be made for us, then why have the committee at all? What's the point of it? I have better things to do with my time.

With that in mind, I tore a strip off [LittleBoss], who has kept some distance since. Apparently they could hear me a floor above. Too bad [BigBoss] took the day off.

(As I've noted previously, you can't get fired in public service. Might as well take advantage of that to call out the boss every now and then.)

Back to the future:

In the committee meeting I had a decision to make. What do I tell them? Do I tell them we've been castrated, or do I pretend nothing happened, and bias the voting in favor of [BigBoss]?

I finally agreed with [LittleBoss] that it would be best if the committee did not lose faith in the administrative powers-that-be, and that a little white lie about the decision -- e.g. have our vote but strongly urge the decision that has already been made for us, without letting them know what took place -- would be the best approach to keep everyone happy.

Immediately following that discussion, I walked into my committee meeting and told them what had happened, in full detail.

Sorry, [LittleBoss], but I lost too much respect for your management style today to want to aid you sticking your nose any further up [BigBoss'] ass. You do that well enough on your own, as it is.

Of course, the natural result, from the committee, was The Question.

And I was honest. I have no answer for it. I don't know. All I could tell them was, you've all heard the stories by now of me screaming at [LittleBoss] for 15 minutes straight. I have yet to be disciplined for such an egregious act of insubordination, and you can bet that none is forthcoming.

Because I knew what [LittleBoss] was doing; stepping on the committee's purpose and autonomy in order to impress [BigBoss]. So [LittleBoss] brokered a deal with me to cover her motives. Too bad no deal was made about how long I'd keep my mouth shut.

Like I said, I won't get in any trouble for being honest. But I can guaran-damn-tee you, [LittleBoss] is going to think twice about ever fu**ing with anything I'm in charge of, ever again. This kid don't roll over that easy.

And people wonder why I hate committee work ...

... oy.

Students? Stugatz!!!

2008-01-29T11:15:00.000-05:00

So a student from [LocalUniversity] walks in the other day. He approaches the desk, and proceeds to ask if we have any copies of [SomeRandomTextbook]. At which point I proceed to give him my Standard University Student Answer:

"This is a public library. We don't have University textbooks, or any course materials. That's what the bookstore and library on campus are for."

His response?

"Well, you guys suck!"

Clever. This guy's on the path to graduating with distinction, can't you tell?

Here's the best part. The kid is carrying, with him, a new copy of the book that he just bought - get this - at the University bookstore! I suppose he then realized he'd rather have that $120 back for a night or two at the bar, and figured maybe he could borrow and photocopy the book from the public library. You know, because our budget and patron majority dictates that we should carry new editions of every textbook the University uses.

We're a public library. Where then, would the money be for James Patterson, Danielle Steel, and John Grisham?

I explained, kindly (why I don't know), to this kid that because we are a community library as opposed to a higher education facility, it is not our mandate to provide course materials already provided by the University. Not to mention that since our books are free, we already know we would never see those textbooks again.

His response?

"Well, you guys suck!"

The guy couldn't even come up with something new to say. Perhaps he should just give up on that University education before he spends too much on it. Community college might be a better fit.

Students. They're all the same. They can get into University, but they still can't figure out why a public library - a PUBLIC library - wouldn't have freely available in its collection the latest edition of their $120 dollar textbook. It's not like every other student would be lining up for it - or deciding not to return the thing - no, of course not.

Students. Stugatz.**

(** or Stucaatz, depending where you're from).

Patrons in the New Year

2008-01-22T23:26:00.001-05:00

Hmmm. Looks like our patrons have enacted some resolutions, also.

Mr. Pole is coming by more frequently. He's shaving more often, he's more sociable with staff, no longer smells bad, and even reads more than he sleeps -- at least, in the library, anyway. He even sets his pole (and the obligatory attached bags of clothes) down in a corner, asking staff to keep an eye on them, as opposed to hauling them throughout the building.

Either he's finally found himself a support worker, or he's just plain sick of living in the streets and is actively trying to better himself. Either way, it's nice to see him making an effort, as opposed to excuses.

FakeTits has taken it upon herself to actively flirt with me whenever she sees I'm on the desk. But that's a no-go zone -- G has respect issues with people whose insecurities dominate their lives to such a point they have to use foreign substances to sexualize themselves. She's a very nice girl, one who honestly doesn't need the silicone to attract a man. But. She chose to inject, so I choose to reject.

NapTime has also been more awake lately, and more talkative. Although I can't for the life of me understand what he says half the time - he's got a serious stutter happening. But he's a nice old man, and one of the few who we leave be when we catch him snoozing. We let him sleep because unlike the homeless, the sight of a sleeping elderly man does not offend the average patron.

As for the Overly White Gangsta, I haven't seen much of him lately. I miss him.

Although I do hear that he comes in looking at children's books every now and then. The staff in that department thought he was getting the books for his kid, but I know better. He let it slip once that he has actually managed to not impregnate any teenagers yet (which is truly amazing if you know the type), meaning the books are most likely for him. I'm guessing the pictures help him learn the words better.

And my coffee has been fine lately. I have discovered that if I hide it within an empty decaf container, it will remain completely untouched, for weeks at a time. Score!!!

Gonna Start A Resolution

2008-01-07T10:29:00.000-05:00

Okay, it's the new year, so it's time I do the obligatory New Year's Resolution post.

This year I resolve to:

Not make the kinds of personal well-being resolutions that we all make, but know we cannot possibly keep.

You know, things like healthy living, being less of an asshole, to stop kicking cats, etc. Not gonna happen.

However, I can make - and keep - resolutions for the workplace. Well, maybe not the one about drinking, but other than that, I think there are some that even I can keep.

This year, at the Library, I resolve to:

1/ Be more assertive with the teens. I need an excuse for a new crowbar, anyway.

(I love the word "assertive". It has so many context-dependent meanings tied to it.)

2/ Tell at least one person per day what I really think of them. Then go home and laugh all night at how they fell for that line of crap.

3/ Break at least one policy per day, just for the hell of it.

4/ Learn how to pronounce the janitor's last name.

5/ Participate in at least one extracurricular staff event. Probably I'll pick one geared towards the female staff (such as when the Avon people come in) and then for fun I'll complain about the lack of male-oriented events, just to piss people off. It counts.

Come to think of it, there is, actually, one personal resolution that I can keep.

I will tell the dog, every day, how much I love him.

After all, that's what he does every day. Except for when he's licking himself. That's his time.

Things I'd Like To See In 2008

2008-01-04T20:44:00.001-05:00

It's a new year, and as I gaze into the crystal ball of my dreams, I see:

[Cue the music]
In the year 2008 ... in the year 2008 ...

1.
Unusable corporate ILS systems will be replaced with user-friendly OpenSource ILS software. Library efficiency, and available budget, will skyrocket in the process.

2.
Libraries will finally realize the importance of hiring actual web developers, as opposed to high school interns, to design aesthetically-pleasing and easy-to-navigate websites. Laughter at the state of so-called information professionals' own inabilities to organize online information will dissipate substantially.

3.
In a related development, the newly-hired web developers will make library catalogues, specifically catalogue records, aesthetically-pleasing and easy-to-read.

4.
Libraries will reserve specified groups of computers for gaming, thus eliminating the utter crime of serious researchers with something to contribute to society being deprived of computers after 3pm by lazy, whiny preteens, for whom Second Life = Social Life.

5.
A rigorous intolerance for patron misbehaviour will be adopted, with penalties for policy-breaking ranging from suspension to expulsion to physical beatings. Noise levels will be drastically reduced as sales of inanimate carbon rods dramatically rise.

6.
All existing shelving will be replaced by movable stacks, allowing allocating collection space to finally coincide with actual collection size.

7.
E-books will die a quick and deservedly-painful death, as library managers finally catch on that small text on computer screens is impossible to read for more than a couple minutes. Companies which build e-book readers will subsequently collapse, for the same reason.

8.
New studies will reveal audiobooks to be as deadly as cellphones in causing automobile accidents.

9.
Social networking sites will link further into library catalogues than ever before, causing new security headaches for IT professionals everywhere, and loan policy headaches for administrative staff. By the end of the year, more books will be lent out via InterLoan than community borrowing, leaving librarians everywhere to wonder if they will ever see their books again.

10.
Parking for public library staff, working in libraries using city-owned parking lots, will be at long last free of charge. Indirect employees of the city will finally enjoy the same benefits as direct employees of the city, putting an end to terrible injustice that has gone on for far too long.

In the year 2008 ... in the year 2008 ...

[End Music. Exeunt omnes. Wake up.]

Dammit! It was all a dream.

Oh well, there's always 2009 ... and 10 ... and forever more.

Mister Pole

2007-12-31T10:24:00.001-05:00

Mr. Pole has been seen in the library much more than usual, lately.

Mr. Pole is one of our many homeless patrons. He's very tall, very scruffy, and comes fully equipped with a foul odor which fills a ten-foot radius around his person. He carries a large knapsack of (presumably) clothes with him, along with another bag (also clothes?) which is tied directly to the end of - you guessed it - a pole.

But it's not just any pole. This thing is solid oak, and stands a good 6 feet tall. He threatened to beat me over the head with it when I woke him up in the lounge last week. I wasn't sure which would kill me first - the pole, or the smell?

Luckily, his alternative personality kicked in, and he became very apologetic and left the library. Either that or he took a look at my spindly librarian arms and crapped his pants. Can't be sure which it was, since he smells so bad to begin with.

But you know, carrying all those books around does make a librarian strong. Not to mention pissed-off. You don't want to go round-and-round with a dude -- a DUDE -- who's been burdened with armfuls of New Age self-help guides and romance novels all morning. You DO NOT want to set that time bomb a-ticking.

I saw Mr. Pole again this morning. He was talking to the computer, and then went into the washroom where I presume he carried on a fascinating conversation with the sink. But hey, at least the talking drowned out his usual sounds ... namely, the echoing reverb of him taking a dump.

Who decides to put the refdesk next to the public restrooms, honestly?

But that's another story for another day. Got another pile of Harlequin's to haul back into the stacks. How can people read that crap, anyway? No wonder our patrons are so f**cked up.

Hmm

2007-12-27T10:35:00.000-05:00

My coffee has been tampered with, once more. The sanctity of the tin, which holds specialty java from a remote part of the world, has been violated.

That coffee, that delicious, expensive, can't-be-bought-in-the-supermarket coffee is for me, and whomever I choose to share it with.

For me, and whomever I choose to share it with.

That means it is to be consumed by myself, and (upon my own personal approval) BigBoss, DistantRelative, TheCuteOne, and whomever else I happen to need a favor from at the given moment.

But it's not for you. It's not for just any librarian. It's not for lowly staff members lacking any professional designation, and it is most certainly not for the volunteers, who are once again the most likely culprit of this most brazen and gutless act of thievery.

Did you pay for it? Did they? We're not talking a large $7 tin of run-of-the-mill coffee-flavored powder from the local supermarket, or worse, the bulk store.

We're talking whole beans, necessitating a high-quality grinder, imported directly from across the globe. I spend the money because I love my coffee, I want to taste the coffee, rather than hot water with a hint of coffee flavoring.

If you didn't buy it, don't f**cking touch it. It should go without saying. The sign I taped to the tin, which reads "F**cking touch this and f**cking die" should be clear enough, or so you'd think. Apparently, it is not.

These fools thought they'd get away with it. Thought I wouldn't notice a slight drop in the level of coffee beans. But they forgot to clean the grinder. Idiots.

It looks as though I'm going to have to install a lock on the cabinet door. It's a shame to have to go to these lengths to keep my coffee - MY COFFEE - safe from those who are not worthy to bask in its flavorful glory. There is a reason why certain people are volunteers, and staff members, as opposed to being driven to greater achievement.

The excellence of my coffee is reserved for those who have pursued such excellence in their own lives, not for the miserable, frumpy, frizzy-haired, shabbily-dressed staff who settled on the $10 per hour job and a permanent bad mood because they were too lazy to put in the work necessary for a better standing in life. If they settled for that, they can settle for puddle water, also ... or as they call it, Instant.

In the meantime, my coffee, my beautiful, imported, reserved-for-kings, whole bean liquid java orgasm, will be kept safely behind lock and key, only to see the light of day in the presence of those whose standing in life dictates they have earned the privilege of its heavenly aroma.