18 September 2010

Wordapalooza and the Word Wizard V. Your Saturday Librarian

I just spent 27 minutes with a patron trying to help her find the book she wanted. Too bad that the book doesn't exist (oh my GOD, I thought I got rid of her, she just came back, ack, ack, ack, just go read some Zane, for fuck's sakes). She seemed nice at first. That is, until I couldn't produce the goodies. Then, your favorite FuckItLibrarian, Saturday Edition, became the raging moron of the century.

Let me just tell you that having the right words really helps. A lot. I mean, unless you're foreign, then there's no excuse. If you can't come up with the right words for the book, ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE READING THEM OFF OF A SLIP OF PAPER, then there isn't much I can do to help you.

Word Wizard: The book I want is "The Central Woman."
Me: Ok, let me look it up, but do you have an author, because I bet there's a lot of books with that title.
WW: Why would I have an author? This person didn't give me an author. {Like I'm supposed to know who 'this person' is as Word Wizard waves around her papers. Nut jobs always come into the library with lots of papers. It's the first sign that you should duck and cover, but I was the only one on the floor and was a sitting, well, duck).
Me: Well, I have over 200 hits, so I can give you a print out and you can select which ones I want to order for you if you want to try it that way...
WW: What are they about?
Me: {meanwhile, screaming toddlers are throwing books, an annoyed lady is telling me that I should have more Triple Crown Books in the Branch, a teenage boy just grabbed a girls ass, some girl is still bitching about her headphones not working--god try earbuds) I'm sorry, I really don't have time to read them for you or summarize them, is there anyway you can contact your friend or the person that wrote the letter so you can maybe can an author's name?
WW: No. Try Central Woman. Try that. I think that's the name of it.
Me: Is the name of the book Essential Woman or Central Woman.
WW: {mumbles something I can't even fucking understand}
Me: Well, is this a book of stories? Or, is is non-fiction, like the history of women's sexuality?
Word Wizard: I don't know. She just told me to read it.
Me: Can I maybe see the letter?
Word Wizard: {folds up the letter into a tiny sqaure, exposing just the part that shows the title, there are three titles written down, all scrawled in old lady neat handwriting, like is her grandma telling her to read this? For fuck's sakes.) Yes. Here.
Me: (OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKES, the TITLE of the book is "Sensuous Woman.") Oh, the book you want is Sensuous Woman, not Essential Woman. Is that right? Or, did you want two books? (I enunciate, because, at this point, we're on like 10 minutes of this conversation, the toddlers are screaming louder, I have a headache, I need my snack, the kids are ridiculous, she's ridiculous, Triple Crown Lady is still screaming at me, and now Word Wizard is getting pissy with me.)
Word Wizard: Look up that.
Me: {That's so....clear, you dumb bag of rocks wearing a terrible powder blue cardigan with a glasses chain yelling at me how to be a sensous woman. Try not wearing that shitty outfit and throwing out those hideous monk shoes. I look up "Sensuous Woman.") I see a few things for "Sensuous Woman," but it doesn't seem like it's anything like what you're describing. I think that you should call your friend and maybe try to get an author. I don't want to order the wrong book for you.
WW: I can't call her.
Me: Well, I can try to order some of these for you, and you can see if they're what you want.
WW: I want the one my friend has written down.
Me: I'm really sorry, but I can't find that one, I'm seeing several titles, I can order them, and you can see which ones match up. You'll get in the books that I see that could be it, and you can send back the ones that you don't want. How does that sound?
Word Wizard: [glares at me] Why can't you just find it.
Me: Because you aren't giving me an author's name.
WW: What about Central Woman? CENTRAL?
Me: Ma'am, you're giving me three different words, I think that you need to get the exact title and author and maybe a summary of the book, otherwise, I think that you'll continue to be disappointed. We just need a little more information to get you what you need and then we'll be happy to help you out more.
Word Wizard: Oh, well, I think I'll try Barnes and Nobles.

And this, dear readers, was 27 minutes of my life down the shitter.

Of course, while I was writing this blog entry on a break, she came back to pester the sub here to ask her what she thought. The sub told her the same thing. I'm sure Word Wizard is off to another library to go torment some other poor Saturday Librarian now with her "senuous" baby blue cardigan and monk shoes.

17 September 2010

Featured at your local library: grinding dicks, nudity, masturbators

It all started, not so innocently, one languid, end of summer-early fall day a few weeks ago when I stopped into one of my branches to check up on things. I bet it was my non-sensible library shoes. I bet it was the patent leather that really got these pervs going. What doesn't get these pervs going? All that I know is that I'm thinking of investing in a taser. Maybe I can get one shaped like a Blackberry, since mine seems to be permantly attached to my hand.

I noticed a teenage boy standing at the computer, dancing, screaming to Big Meech. Yes, I'm white. Yes, I know who Big Meech is. Yes, this shocks the kids, because apparently, nerdy white girl librarians in plaid skirts shouldn't know who Big Meech is, but the problem is not with Big Meech, because that's a whole separate blog entry, but that in fact, YOU ARE STANDING UP AND SCREAMING A BIG MEECH SONG (or any song) UP IN THE MOTHERFUCKING LIBRARY.

A library is not that place for that. Shut the hell up.

So, I scrunched up my face, wondering where the fuck security was, thinking that this is something that they should really be handling. But, because I am super fucking librarian in plaid, my philosophy is that if I see it, I handle it. So, I told the boy to sit down.

He looked at me and told me "Baby, chill."

I love that the reaction to me, my age, my status, to this little shitrat making noise is "baby, chill." I swear to God, tasers should be issued in library shcool. I think that I am going to begin a campaign to library schools across America that "Effective Use of a Taser" be taught as a one day workshop for librarians.

Incredulous (but hiding that look from my face), but ready to rip this little shit's snotty grin off his face, "I am not your baby, and you need to sit down or leave."

Shitrat: Awww, honey, c'mon, I'm not hurtin no one. Have some cookies. (He starts laughing.)

Me (seething with rage, cookies? Honey? The problem is that he gets that attitude at home and thinks that he can throw out a few cutesy words to women when they're mad. And mind you, this little shitrat is 16): I am not your honey, babe, whatever, I'm the branch manager and you need to go.

Shitrat: What, why do I need to go? You don't want to hang with me? (At this point, he gets up close to me, grinds HIS FUCKING DICK into my leg and tells me) c'mon, you need me.

Me: Ha! (Literally, laughing, loudly, almost cackling, in hysterics) Please, little BOY, I'm old enough to be your mother if I got started young enough. I don't play with BOYS, I only play with MEN. You need a whole lot more growing to do. Get your little COOKIES (said with the term of innuendo to it) on out of here.

The kid was so embarrassed he did pack up the cookies and leave.

Then, when I went to visit another branch, some NAKED man was running around. The guy was in the bathroom and stripped down. A patron walked in and basically said, "OH HELL NO" or the equivalent of that. I can't say exactly, since I wasn't there. I can just imagine what I would say, and it would be, "OH HELL NO." That patron alerted the security guard. The security guard (who is great, thank fuck) went into the restroom and told the patron to put his clothes on. The patron decided that was clearly not in his course of action for the day and ran out of the branch naked. None of us did anything. We were too shocked. Naked people also seem to be running faster than clothed people. Or, are the clothed people just seeing everything else around them in slow motion except for the naked person running? Either way, would you want to tackle the naked crazy guy? FUCK NO! We just let him run out of the door, at least he was gone that way. That's management smarts right there.

To top it off (no pun intended), a chronic porn freak (well, ok, who doesn't like sex, but looking at porn in a public library and jacking it is gross) decided to hit up three branches and spew love juice everywhere.

The next time you visit the library, I suggest a can of mace, a taser, and some hand sanitizer. Please don't bring me any cookies, it freaks me out.