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.