Nature AND innovation

I actually had a real lunch break today. It was going along so great. I was eating my sandwich and reading. I heard birds chirping. I was under a shade tree, the sunlight was flickering. It was like the best lunch break ever.

I was so hesitant to go back inside, and for good reason if you've been paying attention at all to any of the previous shitstorms that occur here. When I was walking back inside the building, a woman started yelling at me. It was windy outside and I couldn't hear because Ia big truck was driving by. I kinda ignored her because I don't like yelling. If it was that important, you would have walked your ass around the courtyard and told me personally. Again, I don't do shouting.

We have these planters outside. Of course, since we haven't gotten around to planting anything yet (and our volunteers haven't either), they look like shit. I guess it's pretty representative about how I feel about a lot of things now. Some kids decided that they were going to knock it over and throw dirt everywhere. So, I spent 5 minutes picking up dirt. I told you I should have stayed in my car. I'm just glad a bug didn't touch me, otherwise, I would have reflung the damned dirt everywhere and made an even bigger mess. (Interruption, interruption, interruption, man bitching about his copies being off-center and how the copier is broken. You know what? You're broken).

Anyway, I finished picking up the dirt, and the woman started yelling again. I got closer to her and she was yelling because some kids were throwing rocks at cars and she wanted me to find out who they were. I asked if they went into the library. No. I asked if they were boys or girls. Boys. Ok, well, there's a start. I asked what ages they were. She had no idea. I asked her what they were wearing. She told me clothes. Wow, with a star witness like you, murderers should be hiring you to be a witness for the prosecution. I'll get right on that case ma'am. All that she could tell me was that they threw rocks and THEN STOPPED TO OVERTURN THE PLANTER.

Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait. They stopped to overturn the planter, which, granted, probably only took 15-20 at max, but you couldn't tell me ANYTHING about the kids? And you stood there and watched me pick up the dirt and didn't say anything even though they were throwing rocks before and after they tipped over the planter?

I looked closer to see if the woman was blind. No. I recalled my converstation with her to see if maybe she showed signs of mental retardation. No. It didn't seem like she was a crack. So, who in their right mind would expect the librarian (clearly coming back from her lunch, holding her purse and giganto tub o'fastfooddietpopcup) to 1) go chasing after the kids 2) expect anything from her description 3) or think that a sensible solution would arise to the situation?

So, as I was standing outside pondering the stupidity of some people, I saw some pretty irises. (Oh, god, here's another interruption. Someone bitching about the Census. Someone else whining about the schedule. Don't you love that I just keep on typing? Your concerns are so trivial that I just don't want to hear it, you overglorified turdmonsters.) I decided to take a picture of the irises. I usually see purple irises. These are an interesting color that aren't quite pink, not quite peach, but quite lovely. So, I took a picture of them because they made me happy and god only know my insane days need some happiness. Ok, I digress... Anyway, I finally made my way back in and saw a coupon sitting in the lobby. Then, it hit me. No, not the rocks the kids were throwing. I hit me that I had another great "LIBRARY INNOVATION." I gather the person that left this is concerned for their health and left the tobaccy coupon behind so that they wouldn't fall into the devil's temptation once again. Damned devil. This person probably figured that they could help some other kind soul get mouth cancer, or tooth loss, or gum disease. So, once again, got down to some serious thinkin'. I think all of this sun is good for my brain. It must be the vitamin D. I'm on a brainroll! I just hope this doesn't mean I have a gigantic tumor that's giving me these ideas, because, that would suck. My GREAT LIBRARY INNOVATION is...........drumroll please.............

If libraries partnered with big tobacco and got a fee for passing out cigarette or chewing tobacco coupons, our budget problems would be solved. We could even blow off those bullshit $99 down credit companies. Then, once we got people hooked, we could host health clinics to try to get people to quit. Of course, this would be sponsored by BIG CORPORATE INSURANCE COMPANY, who would...what? what? what? GIVE THE LIBRARY A CUT!

See, it's genius! The only thing is that we better move fast before this whole public healthcare debacle chips into our profits.

Bad Credit? Lots of Bullshit?

I ended up working 11 hours yesterday. This is the joy of management. This is why, on a Friday, when you have an appointment to see a nuerologist for head pains that your employees snicker that you're just cutting out early. They never recognize you coming in early to do shit or staying late to play catch up after computers were down all day.

Yesterday was like the dumping day for all sorts of stupid flyers at the library. I think it's the spring weather that gets people thinking of half-cocked theories. People decide to create all of these lame events in the spring and put up sad looking semi-inflated baloons and flyers with improper spelling. Because I was in a rotten mood and therefore in a haste to throw those things away, I didn't photograph them, but I did catch one of my favorites, that I'm sure you've all seen at a corner of an intersection. Nothing says legitimate company like a hand-written sign!
At many times in my life in Library Land, I've been asked for various services that libraries just don't provide, such as booking travel tickets, student loan advice, typing services, infant care, etc.

Then I got to thinking. And if you had any sense, you'd stop reading now, because when I get to thinking, that can be dangerous. I know you want to know what my bright brain is thinking of and instead of saying something clever (because I got interrupted by the chair shitter patron who just went into the bathroom and did dirtygrosssickthings), I'm just going to tell you.

My library is in the hood. People generally have bad credit. If we put these signs outside and leased a little bit of square footage of the library (like, say the meeting rooms on Friday afternoons) to these companies or people or whoever, then we could get a cut. Why not? I mean, we're already an institution that circulates as many DVDs as movies, so why not give people a car loan while they're waiting in line to get their movies? We could also lease part of the parking lot or the back yard area (where kids can't play anyway since someone would have to go back there and pick up the shell casings after the gang kids shoot up the building with .22s after hours) and put up some some hoopdies so people can drive away the same day! We're also right on the bus line, so the local bus company and these car loan "companies" (or shady freaks, depends on your side of the coin) can compete.

I'm such a genius. But, unfortunately, I have to go tell the chair shitter to stop throwing up all over our restroom, to stop drinking in the library, and to...what? I don't know. I need more coffee.

The winner is the library. The losers? Well, who likes a loser?

Are You Making Enough Money?

I love flyers that people dump in the lobby of the library. I especially love it when the person decides that I'm special enough to get one hand delivered. I was cleaning out my mailbox today. I clearly saved this gem for good reason. I mean, it has everything: crazy guy, money being thrown around, and "the information I requested." I'm a librarian, I love information!

The best part about this flyer is that it is full of valuable tidbits. Now, the photo isn't that great because I had to snap it quickly in the staff room, lest someone wonder why in the name of sanity I was taking pictures of a flyer. But, the information here is really valuable, like that copy of the Constituion Readers' Digest used to put in its magazines each summer. It's something you can't get anywhere else. All of them are good, but specifically, I love that:
-this information could change your life--just look how happy the guy on the cover looks. He's climbing over his piles of money. He's simply footloose and fancy free. He's ready to wine and dine the ladies. That right there is a man changed for good. That man right there is gonna get himself some fine ass tonight all thanks to that INVALUABLE information.
-pennies for nothing! Well, I'm pissed. I've overpaid everything from my college degrees to my cars to my friggin' Starbucks lattes. I wish I was as smart as the guy on the cover. Sigh, a girl can dream, can't she?
-call me critcial, but isn't newspaper revenue declining around the country?

I would love to show you the rest, but that might disclose my identity, so you'll have to live in curious amazement at the treats I get each day.

I have another one of these lovely items for you coming soon, but you've had three blog posts today from me (and I did get that book order done and those two schedules), so this antibrarian needs to pack it up and go home.

No more shitty books for you!

Let me set the scene for you: a woman walks in (why do I always feel like I'm starting a really bad joke about a rabbi or a priest or a lawyer?) and has about 4 library cards. The clerk already checked the cards and told her what fines were on what cards. I happened to be behind the desk and the woman asked me to check the cards. I printed out the fine slips and attached them to the cards.

The woman made THE FACE. The face is something similar to eating raw lemons, shit, a shot of Rum 151, a toilet bowl freshner cake and rotten eggs.

Since I have a modicum of perception, I asked if there was a problem.
Moneybags: Yeah, there's a problem. I have $40 in fines. What do I do if I want to check out?
Me: Well, since we allowed you to pay a certain amount per checkout since December and you stopped doing that, you are going to need to pay $28, which is the amount of fines you accumulated since December.
Moneybags: [is outraged, of course, why fess up? Just act outraged and yell and maybe someone will act like they care] TWEN-TY EIGHT DOL-LARS?!?!?! TWEN-TY EIGHT DOL-LARS?
Me: [emotionless, because, I just don't care. I've heard it so many times, you have to be kidding me] We told you not to get any more fines in December, you got $28 in fines, so that's what you have to pay.
Moneybags: TO CHECK OUT A BOOK!?!?!?!?!?!?
Me: Yes.
Moneybags: Why?
Me: Why? Because, for example, in May, you racked up $15 in fines. If you pay a dolalr or two or even three each time you use the library and then rack up $15 in fines, you aren't going to be able to check out much longer because you'll owe too much.
Moneybags: Well, chilllllllllllllllle, please, I ain't checkin' out nonna these shitty books anyway.

As if calling the books in the library shitty is an insult to me. You failed to realize that while you said that, you had DVDs in your hand. You also failed to realize that the items on your card were all for 'shitty' books, so, clearly, at some point, you needed said 'shitty books.'

The beautiful thing is that after I wrote the previous part, I went to my desk, sent an email, saw the line backing up, went back to the circ desk, and she was checking out books. At first she didn't want to get in my line, but then she changed her mind. Of course, I was there to great her, smiled, and said, "Oh, it looks like you decided to get some books after all. Will you be paying the $28 or will you be using your son's card?" Of course she used her son's card, which also had fines on it, but not fines like hers. Either way, I got her. Stupid patrons.

A Day in the Life of Madame Manager: Saturday Morning Edition

I knew that the ripped up Justin Bieber magazine on my desk should have been a harbinger of the shittiness of this Saturday.
9:15 Roll on into the branch. Surprisingly, there is no one waiting outside. I hope that today might be productive: that I can finish my book order without having to take it home, clean out my desk, and finish branch schedules for managers that can't seem to do them the correct way, even though they're been branch managers for 30 years.
9:23 5 people materialize. I can only imagine that they're anxiously waiting outside to grab a book to read when the doors open.
9:27 6 more people materialize. Great. Let the race for computer time begin. Of course, Coughing Guy is out there, coughing, looking sleezy, wearing a Florida Gators hoodie when it's 70 degrees outside. I guess crack makes you cold.
9:40 A computer goes down. Of course it does. Computers only break on Saturdays because there's no one here to fix them. I can probably give up my dreams of productivity now.
10-10:30 Constantly tell kids to turn down their music. I'm starting to feel like I should be wearing a pleated skirt and a chain on my glasses.
10:33 I'm going to blame this on Justin Bieber.
11:04 The man that comes in here and swears profusely on his cell phone decides today's the day he needs help, so of course, he's as nice as pie to me. I wish I had some pie by the way. Maybe some cherry or key lime. Pie would be great. But, I don't have pie, I just have needy morons. Hope of productivity are completely dashed and I decide I'm going to blog my irritating day.
11:06 Trudge up from the desk to go to the copier. Make one damned copy and then the toner runs out. The toner can never run out when I'm wearing black. It has to run out when I'm wearing pale pink. Take out the near-empty toner cartridge so that no one can futz with the copier.
11:10 Root around in the staff room for toner. So help me if I have to take out the toner and shake it to get the most out of it, because, surely, I will be covered in soot and my shirt will be ruined.
11:12 Find the toner, come back out, see an old man standing at the copier (despite toner and box sitting on top of it), feeding it dimes, and pressing buttons. Because I'm a bitch, I look at him and ask if those copies are working out for him. He looks at me stupidily and I tell him to please take a seat, its out of toner, which is why the cartridge is sitting on the copier and the copier is off. Nevermind the fact that your damned dimes keep falling through the machine...
11:16 Fix the toner, restart the copier, and amazingly, don't get any stupid toner on me.
11:21 Bullshit fine story. This guy has $275 in fines and wants me to waive them so he can get DVDs. He said that his card was lost. Then he was in prison. Then his card was stolen. Then he missplaced it and someone "might have" checked out materials on it. What's your story? I know mine: I'm not forgiving any fines because you're lying to me.
11:33 Someone came up to me, was honest about her $125 in fines, paid $30 to get them down, and didn't give me a bullshit sob story. Amazing. In fact, I was so glad she told the truth that I knocked $5 off her fines. See, I'm not a heartless bitch when people don't try to play me.
12:13 Some guy has been sitting in the same spot for 45 minutes, staring at people using the computers. He's not waiting for them. I'm not sure if he's a creeper, retarded, or just wants to shit in a chair. Or, maybe he's mad because our issue of Tiger Beat with Justin Bieber on the cover has been destroyed.

CALL 911, I'm having a heart attack!

Now that I've almost recovered from the week and have some time to think without running from building to building, I can tell you all about Monday's funfunFUN! This Monday was pretty bad, because it was a payroll Monday and I rolled in from a long car trip on Sunday night, so I was really tired and really irriated about payroll AND had a stupid migraine brewing, so I was a hot mess of pissedofflibrarianism.

Before 2 p.m., I dealt with payroll, the 911 lady, the idiot that ripped off a chunk of concrete and threw it at the building, and then had to have an hour long family counseling session with a boy who vandalized the building Monday morning, the police, his two grown cousins, and his grandmother. That piece was pretty sad, so I'm not going get into it, but the 911 call is fun for the whole family. Read it at Sunday dinner for good laughs all around! Here ya go...

Within 5 minutes of walking into the building (thank GOD I was done with the difficult part of payroll), this woman starts yelling about how she loves Michael Jackson. Well, duh, who doesn't, but this is a library, not a Michael Jackson revival. Shut the fuck up.

I move my eyes to the entrance with a furtive glance of seething at the cause of the noise. The clerk sees me glaring and tells her to keep her voice down, lest I have to get up. Sometimes, I feel like the steretypical 1950s father with the library and its staff. "Don't make your father/manager get up, if you do, he's going to be mad." If I have to get up from my desk and walk all the way down the long damned hallway, you betcha someone is going to get ripped a new one. Also, as a side note, I am NOT one of those "YOU ARE IN THE LIBRARY, HERE IS YOUR LIST OF RULES, DON'T TALK OR I WILL BEAT YOU WITH THE AACR2" librarians. Just sayin'.

Bigmouth lasts about 5 minutes before she has a revelation that Janet Jackson IS really Michael Jackson's sister. Stop the presses. Whoah. Really. Thanks for letting a whole library full of people know that. We would have NEVER MADE THAT CONNECTION WITHOUT YOU! I got up to tell her to please keep her voice down and she grabbed my arm and insisted that I went to high school with her. Don't think so. I went to high school in a different town. Not even close. Apparently, this was her shtick, because she told every third person in the library that she went to high school with them. People were getting annoyed, myself included, but that doesn't really count because I'm always annoyed.

Apparently, that revelation about the Jackson family wasn't enough to satisfy Bigmouth for the day. She signed up for a computer (we have this nifty little machine that assigns you to a computer when you put your library card number in, thus pretty much absolving staff from being screamed at by patrons who think we are playing favoritism with the computer sign-up lists) and missed her turn. The lady that was paying attention was up next, got on the computer she was assigned to, and started working on her resume. I know, saints be praised, a non-creeper, 50 yeard old fucker that didn't want to look at porn at 10 a.m. with all females employees in the building.

In about ten minutes, Bigmouth saw the lady using the computer Bigmouth decided was hers and started screaming (because that's the best way to communicate, isn't it?) at the woman "YOU GOTTA BOUNCE! BOUNCE! OFF MY COMPUTER! IT'S MINE!"

Well, fuck, the rest of the staff looked terrified and I got up to deal with it. The perks of management are never ending. I told Bigmouth that she needs to keep her comments to herself, that she missed her turn, that the lady on computer 2 is assigned to it, and that Bigmouth needs to re-sign up. Bigmouth looked stunned. Apparently, because we were both white, meant that I had to kick the black lady off the computer. I don't care if you're a purple alien--the kind from Mars, not Mexico, although, I'm fine with those aliens too--as long as you're polite and quiet and aren't a total fucking disruptive jackass, I'm not going to favor some stark raving assface just because we have the same skin color. Uh huh.

Since I put Bigmouth in her place, she decided she didn't want a computer anymore, she wanted to color. The children's librarian gave her some coloring pages and crayons. All was quiet until she grabbed the security guard and told him she needed an ambulance because she was having a heart attack.

The guard came up to me. I'm not a doctor, I'm not evaluating shit, so I just called 911. I've called 911 so many times that it doesn't even faze me anymore. Someone could have an arm cracked in half or lost an eyeball on a ballpoint pen or had their lower intestine fall out in the men's restroom, and I would be that eerily calm voice calling in to 911. Those eerily calm voices you hear on the 911 tapes on the 6 o'clock news are either homicidal maniacs or librarians. No normal person could be calm on those recordings except these two groups.

911 Dispatch: What is your emergency?
Me: I'm at [address] and I have a woman in the library that says she feels like she's having a heart attack. She says her chest is burning. She is a caucasian female, 41 years old. [I told you I was good.]
911 D: Is she awake?
Me: [looks over] Yes, she's talking to the security guard.
911 D: Is she upright?
Me: Yes, she's looking through her purse.
911 D: Ok. [Pauses, because you know he's thinking WTF?!] Is she turning blue or look like she's struggling to breath?
Me: No, she's still looking through her purse.
911: No signs of distress, ok. [Asks a bunch of health questions, like if she took aspirin or other meds that I had no clue because I'm not this loonatic's keeper and nor do I care, at this point, I just want her out of the damned library because she's wasting my time with her irriating need for attention in any form]. Ok, we'll dispatch an ambulance.

I told Bigmouth that I called EMS and then she wanted me to sit down and chat with her and organize her purse. Sure, because if I was having a heart attack, I'd want the librarian to organize my purse. I guess if I had pot or meth in there, I might ask her to go flush it, but she wanted me to find her health care card. I told her I had to go wait for EMS and that I didn't have time to look through her belongings. She grinned at me stupidily. I went outside to flag the ambulance into the parking lot, which arrived within 5 minutes, I told the paramedics where nutso was sitting.

As if the rest of her craziness wasn't funny enough, it's about to get much better.
Paramedic 1: [asking generic questions].
Paramedic 2: We're going to take your pulse, check your breathing.
Bigmouth: I broke my foot.
Me: [looks incredulous]
P1: I thought you said you were having a heart attack?
Me: [interrupting, because there is no way you are going to say you broke your foot in the library to try to sue us when you walked in of your own accord, when you were walking around all morning shaking people and insisting you went to high school with them, and when there was no crash or accident] That's what she told the guard and that's what he told me.
Bigmouth: No, it's my foot. Well, I have asthma.
P1: What happened to your foot?
Bigmouth: A dresser fell on it. [Pause.] Then a fan fell on it. [Pause.] Then a computer fell on it.
P2: [turning to me] How did she get into the building?
Me: She walked in.
Bigmouth: [smiling] But it didn't hurt then, I think I re-broke it in here.
P2: So, [turning to Bigmouth], you have no chest pains right now?
Bigmouth: I feel fine. Except my foot. It's broken. I need a cast. Wheel me out of here. Do you have a wheelchair.
Me: [you're going to need a wheelchair when I get done with you, you've wasted 45 minuets of my time already] No. It's a library. We don't rent out wheelchairs.
P1: Ok, well, can you walk out? [Made no indication whatsoever that they were going to put this attention whore on a stretcher, and good for him!]
Bigmouth: I'm going to need help. [P1 and Guard go to each side of her and walk as she hobbles].
Bigmouth: [Sees a flyer annoucing a libray event] Oh, yeah, hey, get me one of those .
P2: [give me the look and waits until Bigmouth is further ahead] She's nutso.
Me: You got it darlin'. She's been in here all morning, yelling, almost started a fight with a patron, then she was coloring. She just wants attention.
[We laugh]
Bigmouth: OH, HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY! [Sees some guy walking down the hall] Didn't we go to LocalHigh together?
Guy: Uhhhh, ummmm, sure. Yeah.
Bigmouth: Class of 87! Class of 87! [At this point, she forgets that her foot is "broken" and stops mid-hallway to talk to her "classmate. The paramedics, myself, and security guard just kinda stand there, clogging up traffic coming into the branch. Apparently, seeing an old faux-classmate of yours is just the trick to fixing a broken bone. Who knew! Conversation ends and she tells us:] MY FOOT! MY FOOT! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, my FOOT!
P2: You were just standing there talking to that guy and moving around, I don't think your foot can hurt that much.
Bigmouth: It does. It comes and goes. What hospital are you taking me to? I went to Southside Hospital last week and they were mean to me. [Maybe because you're a collassal pain in the ass and just want attention so you make up stupid shit and were wasting their time too?]
P1: That's out of or way, we aren't taking you there.
Bigmouth: Well, don't take me to Central Hospital either. [Like you have options, like this is a choice. I know exactly where they're taking you, LooneyTunes].
P2: We aren't going there.
Me: I need this for my records, where are you taking her?
P2: We're taking her to SuperResearch Hospital. [Code for: mental ward.]
Me: Oh. Thanks and uh, good luck with that.
P2: Yeah.
Bigmouth: BYE BYE EVERYONE!

Thus concludes lesson #863 on "What they don't teach you in library school."

You better listen to me!

Mumbling Guy on Phone: Can you look up a movie for me?
Me: Sure, what's the name of it?
MGOP: Mublemumblemumblesizeme.
Me: It seems like we have a bad connection [meaning you couldn't put down the hash pipe a half an hour before calling us so you would at least sound mildly not-high], did you say you wanted me to see if we had Super Size me?
MGOP: No, I want mumblemumblemumblemumblesizeme.
Me: Just so I know I have the right movie, you want the documentary with the guy who eats McDonald's for 30 days?
MGOP: No, I want [I shit you not] "Shush her for sizing me."
Me: [Sounding somewhat incredulous] You want a movie called "Shush her for sizing me?"
MGOP: Mumblemumblemumble my friend mumblemumblemumblemumble. Mumblemumblemumble, mumble mumble, lieberry, mumble, mumble. Mumble.
Me: [This motherfucker is ASKING ME FOR PORN!] I don't think that's the type of movie that libraries carry.
MGOP: You better listen to me! [Ok, so now you can speak clearly? It's such an outrage that the library doesn't have porn that it suddenly causes you to sober up and be outraged? I bet you ate Cheetos with maple syrup for breakfast too and called it haute cuisine] I want "Shush her for sizing me." The other guy mumblemumble [here we go again] coulnd't find it. I want it.
Me: We don't have it.
MGOP: Are you listening to me?
Me: Yes, you want the movie "Shush her for sizing me" [at this point, staff is starting to look at me funny as well as are other patrons and I have to wonder if this guy is getting off on asking me to repeat the name of this.] and no library carries it.
MGOP: Mumble. Mumblemumble. Mumble, mumble, mumblemumblemumble, where do I mumblemumble get mumblemumble it?
Me: Perhaps an adult video store?
MGOP: Mumblemumblethanksmumblemumblebye.