Monday, January 31, 2005
 

Two Days in A Row-- Does This Mean I'm on A Roll Now?

'k. I resolve to return to my previous (semi)faithful blogging.

Let's see. I got yelled at by a liberry patron today. I have to admit, perhaps I was unreasonable. See, I wouldn't let her check out her books without her library card. She thought her driver's license would work. I attempted to explain that I needed to scan the barcode, and besides, it's clearly stated all over the place (including on the flyer right in front of your ignorant face, but I didn't say that) that you must have your card to check out books.

But hey, rules don't apply to some people. And when you're being unjustly persecuted, as this woman so clearly was, it's most definitely your right to take out your anger on the employee (not policy maker, mind you; just the messenger) before you. The employee who has remained polite and even offered to bag up all the books, put her name on the bag, and have the bag waiting for her tomorrow, when she comes back with her card.

As she was yelling at me, another employee (senior to me) came up, and she expanded the rant to include him, so I guess I shouldn't take it personally.

She waited until about five minutes before closing to pull this, which I suspect was a ruse: figure that the employees will be in such a hurry to shut things down and get out of there that they'll accept the license just to be done with it.

I was also lectured as to the fact that the latest Tom Wolfe novel is "positively filthy" by a patron of our 70 years-plus demographic. I am informed that "filthy, foul" language is involved.

Which reminds me of what may be my all-time favorite library story: I've forgotten the name of the book; all I remember is that it featured a whip on the cover. When I checked it in, I noticed that someone had written the following in the front: "FILTHY, FILTHY BOOK." I nearly hit the floor laughing. Not just filthy, but filthy, filthy. In all caps. I then read the dustjacket, and I think there were quite a few tip-offs there as to the content (as if the whip on the cover wasn't enough).

Incidentally, I know that the two filthy commentators are not one and the same person, because the latter is homebound and gets books only from the bookmobile.

That's enough for tonight. Maybe tomorrow you'll all be lucky and get to hear my I Hate Our Fax Machine Rant, which should be copyrighted by this point. Slower than Christmas and more ornery than a wet cat* . . .


*The wet cat in question not being Alice, who loves nothing more than to play in the sink, shower, water dish, or whatever other fluid-filled receptacle is available.

Elvisette philosophized at 11:28 PM