*snort*

While cataloging "An Amish Wedding" (can't get enough of that Amish romance, can we?), I came across this on the back:

Includes Old Order Amish Recipes and
Reading Group Guide
----------------------------
Visit AmishLiving.com

Hmm... is there computer powered by mule?

Wow, check out the cobwebs!

Yeesh, this place needs an update.  So, without further ado, I give you:

Why there should be an IQ test in order to utilize computers:

Regular patron stops in to use computer.  Haven't seen him in a while.  Say hi, smile, etc.  Later, I'm in the stacks and said patron waves me over.

Patron:  I've forgotten what to do.
Me:  Okay.  What's the problem?
Patron:  I can't remember how to get on.
Me:  (At least he didn't say "get off.")  On.....?
Patron:  The computer.
Me:  (Argh.) Do you still need to log in?  That's your library card number and your session ID that you got at the reservation pc.
Patron:  Oh no, I remember that.
Me:  Oooooooookaaaaay....
Patron:  I can't remember how to get to me email.
Me:  Oh, well, if you've forgotten your password, you can request to have it reset.
Patron:  No, I remember that, too.
Me:  (Refraining from strangling patron):  What exactly is the problem?
Patron:  I don't remember where to go.
Me:  (Oh, I'm sure I could give you some suggestions):  Go?  You mean where to go to check your email?
Patron:  Yeah, that's it.  I don't remember the website.
Me:  Well, what's your email address?
Patron:  It's ........
Me:  Where is it hosted?
Patron:  Huh?
Me:  What's the second half of your email address?  Gmail.com?  Yahoo.com?  Hotmail.com?
Patron:  Oh!  Hotmail!

Turning into the IT support guy from Saturday Night Live, I reach over the patron's shoulder, type "www.hotmail.com" into the address bar, smile and ask if there's anything else he needs.  He says no, I walk back to the desk, still holding the books I'd been shelving, and proceed to beat my head against the circulation desk.  Literally.  Several times.  Luckily, my co-workers understand, pet me on the head and discuss the possibility of keeping liquor under the circ desk.

Same patron, different day:

Patron:  Excuse me, I just wanted to let you know that I put a dollar in the copier, made nine copies and didn't get my change.
Co-worker #1 (Reaches into the drawer to pull a dime out of the change jar.):  Here, let me...
Patron:  No, no.  I'm not complaining, I just wanted to make you aware.
Co-worker #1:  Really, we can give you your change.
Patron:  No, I'm not complaining, I just wanted to let you know that it's not giving change.
Co-worker #2:  The machine might be out of dimes, let us refund...
Patron:  No, I'm not complaining.  You just might want to check.  (Patron then heads for door, pauses and begins again.)  Let's see, if the machine keeps keeps a dime from every patron who makes copies, what would that add up to?
Co-worker #2:  Sir, I can assure you that the library isn't trying to profit off of patrons by skimming money out of the copier.
Patron:  That'd be quite a racket, considering how many people use that copier every day. 

Patron, turns and leaves, leaving my co-workers staring at each other, plotting the force necessary to hurl a dime at the patron's head hard enough in order to penetrate the skull.  My guess?  Harder than most of skulls. 

Creepy Old Guy

Officially, librarians will tell you that we love all of our patrons, we await eagerly for them to approach the desk and ask us their questions.  This is mostly true.  Mostly.

Unofficially, there are patrons that make us cringe when we see them approaching.  There are the odiferous folk for whom we keep the can of air freshener behind the desk.  There are the ones who steal the toilet paper and air fresheners out of the bathroom, but you can't prove it.  There are those whom you know don't like you, and you don't like them, but you smile and bear it instead of telling him/her to go fuck themselves.  Professionalism is key!

And then... there's the Creepy Old Guy. 

Granted, we have many older male patrons who give the female employees slight cases of the heebie jeebies, but this particular man takes the cake.  I'm not sure how many clothes are in his closet, but his "uniform" consists of loose khakis (beginning to fall down), a short sleeve shirt that's completely unbuttoned, and a white tank top (wife beater) about two sizes too large.  He comes in with his bag of books thrown over his rolling walker and shuffles to the front desk.  He then proceeds to put the bag on the desk and give whichever female the once over (since we only have one token guybrarian, it's usually a female at the desk).  After doing so, he'll unload his books from his bag, one at a time, while staring said librarian down.  Most of us will take the books as he does this, avoiding looking at the man directly. 

But then, he's done.  No more books.  But he continues to stand there, staring down your chest.  On most occasions, whomever is helping Creepy Old Guy will wait a beat and then announce "That's it!  You've turned everything in." or "Thanks!  That's got you!" or "All in, anything else?" 

He continues to stand there, acting like he didn't hear you.  "Sir, that's it.  Anything else?"

I swear to the heavens above that he will lick his lips, slowly raise his eyes from your chest, smile (eek), grab his bag and walk away.  When he returns with his books to take home, it's the same routine.  Several of us have done the obvious - squat a bit to see if we can catch his eye and let him know that we see him staring down our books, but he doesn't care.  He just takes the opportunity to smile wider, like there's nothing we can do about it.  One of my coworkers has considered just pulling her shirt down and giving him an eyeful, but none of us want to be responsible for calling 911 and having to fill out an incident report.

Personally, I think the man needs the walker from years of bending over, looking at women's chests. 

Just How Badly Do You Need That Book?

Yet another story from a co-worker who was laughing so hard about this one that she called me at home on my day off to tell me about it.

We have many older patrons who visit the library daily to get their free coffee, read the paper, take their morning constitutional in the latrine and perhaps even nap.  Unless they snore or start to drool, we generally leave the nappers alone.  Though, sometimes I want to wake them up just because I want to take a nap, dammit!

So, one of these patrons, an older gentleman who used to come in to my shop when I had it open (sigh) is not one of the happiest campers.  (He loves telling me how he wishes my shop were still open, that he misses it, etc., but when I was open, he complained that he couldn't smoke in my place and the coffee was too expensive.)  On this particular day, said patron grabbed one of the new non-fiction titles and sat down to read it in one of our comfy armchairs.  My co-worker said she walked by at one point and he'd fallen asleep, book open on his chest.  She let him be and walked back to the desk.

About 30 minutes or so later, the man approached the desk.  He mentioned the book he'd been reading and said he'd really been enjoying it.  So much, in fact, that he'd planned on checking it out and taking it home.  However, he must've dropped it during his unplanned siesta because it wasn't in his lap when he woke up.  None of the librarians had picked the book up, so my lovely co-workers searches for the book in the OPAC. 

IT HAD BEEN CHECKED OUT!!!!

A lady had taken the book OUT OF HIS LAP and checked it out.  Just how badly did this lady need to know about the history of our state?  Seriously?

Finders keepers, snoozers weepers.

What's Privacy?

Back to G____ of the Entitled Genealogists Guild. 

For some reason, our library has had anyone doing research in the genealogy room sign in at the front desk.  When I began working at the library, the explanation I got was that tracking how many patrons used the room, as well as from where they travelled, helped with our funding.  Not the case.  So, a co-worker redesigned the sign-in form, getting rid of the patron's contact information.  However, the book was still on the counter, there for the world to see.  This disturbed me, as well as the librarian who'd redesigned the form.

In the interim, I took some time to actually go through the family files.  I'd already spent time cataloging all of the microfilm, rearranging the books, rebinding, etc.  You know, the fun stuff :)  But I hadn't gone through the family files.  HOLY CRAP!  Addresses!  Phone numbers!  I spent two days blacking out personal contact information (addresses & phone numbers, not names since it IS the genealogy room).  I killed three Sharpies in the process.  At the end of it, I felt pretty damn satisfied with my work.  But those damn books were still there.

I approached the director a few weeks ago, to ask about the books and voiced my concerns regarding patron privacy.  The books had been stored in a filing cabinet IN THE ROOM.  I found books from 1993.  I spent many days shredding sign in forms.  In fact, I still have a pile on my desk.  Which brings me back to G____.

G____ asked me for the old sign-in books, because he needed to look up someone's email address.  I informed him that the books no longer existed as sharing this information was against library policy as it violated our patrons' privacy.  He was indignant! 

G___:  When I go to ____, they copy my driver's license before I go in!
Me:  Yes, but do they share that information with other researchers?
G___: What?
Me:  Just like we don't share what books you check out with anyone, I have to respect patrons' privacy.
G___:  I don't understand.  What if I need to contact someone?
Me:  I'm sorry.  If someone asks me for your phone number, I can't look in our system for it.  If I can find you in the phone book, I can do that.  Otherwise, I can't use our system to give out information.  Thus, I can't put this information out for other people.
G___:  Hmph.  (walks away)

What I don't understand is this mine used to work for an archiving agency!  He should know about privacy policies!  Argh.  Nothing like telling someone that they can't do something when they think that they should.

Alert the Media!

One of my hats at work is resident genealogist.  It kind of fell into my lap when another librarian retired and no one wanted to take over the genealogy collection.  That's ok, though, because I really enjoy doing research.  In college, it was the research part of a paper that I loved.  Notsomuch when it came to writing the actual paper.

Anywho, genealogy.

We have all of the local papers on microfilm with the exception of the current year.  Those are kept on hard copy and then recycled once we have it on microfilm.  We USED to have ALL of the papers in hard copy, but they weren't ours.  As in, we stored them for the local historical society and could use them if someone requested the hard copy, but they didn't belong to us.

In cleaning out the storage room one day, I came across all of the papers.  The boxes and boxes.. and boxes of newspapers.  The poor storage room was bursting at the seams, so I asked the Director about them.  I was told they belonged to the historical society (I didn't know at that point, I just knew we had them all on microfilm and they were taking up way more space than we could afford to allocate to them).  I double checked with the assistant director and the lady who'd retired.  So, I called a member of the historical society, told him my dilemma and he said he'd come pick them all up and put them in storage with the rest of the items from the historical society.  Woo-hoo!

Fast forward a few months.  My boyfriend (who happens to work at said local newspaper) calls and tells me that he's received an email from someone claiming that the library has thrown all of the old papers away and they're now in the dump.  Uh, no.  So, I explain what happened to the papers while thinking "even if we did, if they'd belonged to us, it's our prerogative what we do with them!"  I tell the Director, just so she knows that the info is out there in case someone approaches her.

Fast forward another month.  I'm in the genealogy room, assisting a patron.  Then HE shows up.  HE is the genealogist who's in the library at least once a week, toting several bags of research.  He's promised us all of his research when he passes, so yeah, I try to be especially nice to the man.  However, he can be a pill when he wants to be.  Ok ok, he can be a giant pain in the ass.  We shall call him G____.

G____ makes a comment that it's a shame that we (meaning him) can't look through the hard copies of the newspapers anymore.  I remark that we have everything on microfilm and we just didn't have the room to store the papers anymore, so they're with the historical society.  He then tells me that another librarian has told him that the papers are in the dump.  WTF?  I text said librarian, we talk on the phone, and of course, this is not the case.  He told G____ that we had everything on microfilm so we got rid of them.  End of story.

Lovely.  So, I walk back into the genealogy room to set G____ straight.  He pops a gasket.  "Well he told me that you'd gotten rid of them!  What was I supposed to think?"

HOW ABOUT NOT JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS, YOU AGING TWAT!?!?

Ahem.  I explain again that the papers were not ours.  "When did that happen?  They were yours.  Why did the library claim them on their insurance when some of them were damaged?"

I dunno, why in the hell is it your business.

Double ahem.  I calmly tell him that I don't know.  This is what I was told.  I verified the info with three librarians and contacted the historical society.  End of story.  And please, don't jump to conclusions or AT LEAST VERIFY WITH THE PERSON IN CHARGE OF SAID MATERIALS.

I need a drink.

I'm sorry for your, um, loss?

A co-worker sent me the following last night. Yet another reason to love my fellow librarians:

------------------------------------------------
I have one for you.

A lady comes in today and hands me her movies. She says that she'd like to renew them because she didn't get to watch them, and they might just be a little late, because her husband DIED and they buried him YESTERDAY.

I was like "YOUR HUSBAND DIED? OH MY GOSH, I AM SOO SORRY!" (and I think, you're worried about not getting to watch your movies? How are you functioning?!? You just buried your husband!)

(It was about this time that I remember that the guy I was thinking of, who I first thought she meant, who I always see her with, may not have been her husband. I had heard that somewhere. Then I think...she had ANOTHER man somewhere?)

Her: *looking at me a bit strangely* "Yes, the funeral was yesterday..."
Me: "Of course we can take off those fines..." so, I start deleting them (although by then thinking that maybe I should make a note, because if she starts coming in with stories every time about how someone died just to get out of fines...)
Her: "You were looking a bit strange..."
Me: (thinking, I look strange? What's up with me today? Where is this conversation going?)
Her: "...when I said my husband died..."
Me: "Oh, I was just surprised, and wanted to tell you we were so sorry for your loss..."
Her: "oh...yeah..._____ is driving me around (the guy I had thought was dead, but who is apparently the boyfriend), I just feel like I'm in a fog...I'm going to go watch these movies..."

Jeez. Sorry for your loss, and that your poor deceased husband messed up your movie check-outs. Maybe now you'll get to go watch them interrupted.

Just How Many Books Do You Need?

Disclaimer:  Librarians LOVE avid readers.  They keep us employed.  They keep our collections current with requests for new authors or items we haven't heard of before.  They are generally the most awesome, courteous and gracious people that set foot in a library.  Generally.   But not all.

Policy-speak:  Libraries have limits set for how many items patrons can check out.  Ours is 15 total items, which can include any mix of the following:

• all regular check out books (aka 3 week books)
• four (4) 14-day books (new books, also includes audio & holiday books)
• four (4) DVDs per household
• four (4) music CDs
• magazines

Sound reasonable?  Most patrons never check out that many at one time.  Many seem surprised that we even allow them to have that many out at once.  Never have I had anyone complain about the limit.  Until Monday.

Lady and her husband(?) walk to the counter.  They have more books that I have ever seen anyone try to carry out of the library.  However, since I see two people AND two library cards, I think nothing of it.  I scan the first card.

Me:  Ma'am.  This seems to be your son's card.  Is he with you?
Patron:  No, he's not with me.
Me:  Hold on one second.  (Turn around with card in had to talk to Director.)  I just want to verify that she can't use her son's card if he's not with her.  Correct?
Boss Lady:  Correct.
Me:  (Turn back around to face patron.)  I'm sorry, ma'am, but you can't use this card unless your son is with you.  I see you have 8 audio books.  You'll have to put 4 of them back.
Patron:  (Very loud, annoyed sigh.)  Hmph.  (Plops down audio books and begins to go through them.)
Me:  Ma'am, can I have your card?

Patron flings card at me.
I proceed to begin scanning books as she (loudly) goes through her stack of audio books.  I notice there are still WAY too many items.

Me:  Ma'am, I've already scanned 10 books.  I know you want audio books, so that will be 14 items.  You're limited to 15.  Would you like to go through your books and magazines and weed out what you don't want?
Patron:  What do you mean?
Me:  There is a 15 item limit per patron on what can be checked out at one time.
Patron:  When did that start?????
Me:  That's always been our policy ma'am.
Patron:  I know I've checked out this much before!!!  (Shoves audio books toward me and begins flipping through magazines.)
Me:  I'm sorry, but the policy is 15 items and has been for a long time.

Patron slaps one magazine and book in front of me and shoves the items she can't check out to the side.  Amused co-worker picks up discarded item and places on book cart.  She's enjoying this WAY too much.  I finish scanning items, placing return date slips in a few and restack her pile.

Me:  There you go.  Your audio books are due ______ and other items are due ______.
Patron:  You just wait.  Next time I'll make sure I have my children with me!!!  (Storms out with her items and very quiet confused looking husband in tow.)

Thanks for threatening me with your children, lady.  Do they get to check out books that THEY want to read when they come or do you just use their cards to get your stuff?

Everybody Poops

Most librarians are familiar with the book "Everybody Poops."  We're asked quite often for books on potty training, so we try to make ourselves familiar with books of that nature.  However, "Everybody Poops" has attained its infamous status because hey, poop is funny.

Usually.

Sometimes, being a librarian is a stinky, messy job.  Before I began working at the library, two of my co-workers had to follow a toddler's poop trail.  That's right, I said POOP TRAIL.  The child's diaper was so full that it sagged under the weight of the poo, sagged enough for the poo to escape and drop to the floor.  My co-workers noticed the child's diaper as he toddled out of the library behind his mother (just a diaper, mind you) and saw the horror that the child left behind.

Eww.

I've also heard a story of the poop in the book drop.  Again, eww.

About a year ago, our lone male librarian came out of the men's restroom, with a disgusted look on his face.  Someone had taken a dump IN the urinal.  I'm not quite sure how that was accomplished, but one of the ladies went into the restroom and took care of the cleanup while the rest of us debated on the logistics of pooping in a urinal.  Though, I would think it would be easier to poop in the urinal than in the book drop.

This past week, we had two instances of personal excretion problems.  One regular patron approached the desk and said "I'm really sorry to tell you this because I know you don't want to hear it.  The urinal and toilet in the men's room both look like they've overflowed and it doesn't look like pee."  Oh, yay.  I was working the desk and informed two of my co-workers, one of whom sighed and went to grab the mop.  Later in the week came the evil nastiness, when our poor lone guybrarian wrinkled up his nose and said "Do we have cleaning gloves?  Someone pooped on the TOILET SEAT."

HOW DO YOU MISS?  I know that some people have a fear of toilet seats, but there are toilet seat covers and toilet paper.  Even when I've squatted to use a port-a-john, I've been able to hit my mark.  AND I'M A CHICK!

Alas, everybody poops, but not everyone aims correctly.

Oh yes, the Stinky Brothers... and more!

A co-worker of mine who follows my blog emailed me a reminder about two of our patrons whom we call "The Stinky Brothers."  Every public library has patrons like these.  The ones that you can find anywhere in the library just by using your nose.  The ones that require you to keep a can of air freshener at the desk so you can spray that trail o' stink after they leave.  (Though, I have been known to break the can out before they've left when the odor really smacks me around.)

The Stinky Brothers aren't homeless.  I know this because they check out DVDs.  (I don't know too many cardboard boxes that have TVs and DVD players.)  I also know that at least one of the brothers has lost internet access due to his taste in porn.  (Eww.  Just eww.  There are certain notes on patron names that you know need to be there, but you throw up a little in your mouth every time you read it.)  They have a wide range of books that they check out including (wait for it....) BREASTFEEDING BOOKS.  Oh yes.  You know that they're checking them out just to see boobs, but still, it's all I can do not to say "Please tell me you didn't knock someone up" or "When are you due?"

Is that mean?  Sure.  Do they deserve it?  Yes.

My other moment of bitchiness comes from a couple of weeks ago.  A patron stopped in to return some books, check out some books, the usual.  The entire dialog while he was at the desk was pleasant (which was odd, because he usually has attitude).  But then he ruined it.  He began to walk away and spun on his heel.

@$$hole: I drove 14 miles up here yesterday and you were closed!  A half inch of snow and you close?!?!?!  Come on!
Me:  Sir, we were open from noon to 5.  There was a sign on the door that stated as such.
@$$hole: I didn't see that.  It said you were closed.
Me:  No, the sign that said we were closed that we we would be opening from noon-5 because of the ice.
@$$hole: (begins to leave so he can get the last word in) It was just a half inch of snow!
Me: (calling after him) It's for your safety!  Our parking lot was covered in ice.  (under my breath) Asshole.

Too bad he didn't bust his ass when he drove the 14 miles and got out of his vehicle the day before.  Unless he did.  And if that's the case, I have some security camera footage to review because I WANNA SEE!

The bathroom thief rides again

Two of my co-workers run a side business, cleaning the library after hours.  They also do some things during work hours related to the business, like refilling the paper towel and toilet paper dispensers.  They usually clean a couple of nights a week and do the other items as needed.

A couple of months ago, the day after a night of cleaning, a patron approached the front desk and informed us that the women's restroom was out of toilet paper.  So, the message was relayed and met with a "What???  We just refilled those last night!"  Lo and behold, the TP was gone.  Seems another patron had decided that she needed that TP at home.  Nice.  We have a pretty good idea of who it was, but do you stop the patron and say "let me search your bag?"  No, you just refill the dispenser and go on.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks later.  The aforementioned patron is seen at the front desk, pumping our Germ-X into bottles she's pulled from her purse.  She's not even trying to hide the fact that she's using us as her personal filling station.

Another few weeks later.  After a program for the teens involved dirt-colored gummy worms, the teen librarian leaves the rest of the gummies out for others to enjoy.  The same patron is seen stuffing the individually wrapped gummies into her purse.  Once she leaves, we find that the container is now empty.

And now we get to yesterday.  Same "cleaning" librarian comes storming out of the bathroom and enters the office.  She apologizes for the question that follows:  "Did any of you ladies take the air fresheners that were behind the toilets in the ladies' room?"  Uh, no.  Gone.  WTH?  Ten minutes later, another co-workers comes in and tells us that the toilet paper is also gone.  Guess who's in the library?  Ol' Germ-X herself.  Argh.

Ya know, I understand being broke.  Believe me, I live paycheck to paycheck.  But jeezuz, stealing from the public library? 

Your books will be due in three weeks.  Would you like toilet paper with that?

Why do people continue to amaze me?

Several of our patrons are my friends on FaceBook, some of whom I was already friends with, but many are folks I've friended just so that I can share info posted from the library's website or twitter accounts.  Last week, I friended a patron whom I'd ignored online before, just because I knew, I KNEW, that her status updates would make me cringe.

Backstory:  With the remodel and snow we've had recently, the schedule at the library has been hit or miss.  After my last post, it snowed enough to that the school board canceled school, which also meant that we were closed that day.  When I returned to work on Monday, we still didn't have computers for the patrons, which meant enduring more "No computers!?!??!" crap.  We also had BOXES AND BOXES of books that had been returned in the book drop while we were closed.  (What part of PLEASE HOLD ONTO THE BOOKS UNTIL WE REOPEN DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND????)

Ahem.  Tangent.

So, no computers on Tuesday, either.  We kept telling patrons that we were at the mercy of the electrician and computer technician, we're sorry, we hope to have them up by Wednesday, yadda yadda yadda.  Glory be, by Tuesday afternoon, we had PCs!  You'd think it was the second coming or something.  The sky opened, the angels sang... AND THEN IT SNOWED.  AGAIN.

So, Wednesday, we were closed.  The forementioned FB patron updated her status accordingly:  OH NO! The computers had just come back up and now the library was closed and she couldn't get on the internet.  Why was the library closed?  Oh woe is me!  THEN SHE APOLOGIZED TO HER MAFIA WARS AND YOVILLE FRIENDS. 

Open palm, insert face.

I couldn't let it go.  I commented with a sweet "our concern is for our patrons, my co-workers and I have fallen in the parking lot, we're low man on the totem pole when it comes to getting our parking lot cleared..." but inside I was screaming OH MY GAWD!  And then it hit me... Was she posting from her phone?  How else would she update her status?  Hmmm?  The questions continued to build when I got an email notification that she'd commented to my comment... an apology for her vent... Wait!  The library was still closed.  I'm confused!  So, you can still FaceBook, but your connection is such that you can't play your blessed Mafia Wars and Yoville.  Soooooooo... you'll call the library out on your FB account because we were trying to keep you and other patrons safe and save you from falling and busting your asses in our parking lot.  I'm sorry.  Next time, please be my guest and fall down for me, video tape it and post it on YouTube.  Please.  I need a good laugh.

Yes, we have no computers! We have no computers today!

Yesterday, after being closed for 9 days (8 business), the library reopened.  Not all of the books were put away, some shelves still needed to be moved, the genealogy room was still a mess and the computers weren't hooked up yet thanks to a disappearing electrician, but we reopened.  When we left the night before at 7:45, weary from moving furniture and shelving books, we wondered how many patrons would be patient with us and how many would wonder what in the hell took us so long.

Before opening, I called the local radio station to announce that yes, we would be open, but that the public computers would not be available.  Our director had also posted that information on the website, FaceBook and Twitter the night before.  How many people would get that info, we didn't know.  It appears the answer was NONE.

At 9am, I walked to the back door to unlock it.  Standing outside were three regulars, all of whom visited us primarily to utilize our computers.  Argh.  I looked at the door before unlocking it.  Yup, there was the sign that the director had put up, very clearly stating that the computers were not available, along with a very nice "no computer" graphic to go right along with it.  I shook my head and unlocked the door, opening it for them.

Me:  Hi, guys!
Patrons: (mumbling) Hi. (they begin to walk forward)
Me:  You DO know that the computers are down, right?
Patrons:  (brains melting) No.........  Will they be available tomorrow?
Me:  Don't know.  We hope so, but I can't promise anything.
Patrons: (puppy dog eyes telling me I'm killing them slowly) Uh, ok.  (shuffle away)

While they acted like kids who didn't get their way, they at least were respectful, somewhat dignified and understood that not everything goes the way we like.  This is in great contrast to the woman who stomped and bitched at the front desk, telling my coworkers that the electrician should have been working at night and that her bills would be late.  Seriously?  You don't have internet access at home and you pay your bills online?  Ok.  I'll try to forgive you for that.  But you can't PICK UP THE DAMN PHONE AND PAY YOUR BILLS OVER THE PHONE?  Or, even you knew we were closed and had already had to delay opening by two days, why didn't you WRITE A DAMN CHECK AND SPEND 44 CENTS TO MAIL IT?

My mother has accused me of being book smart and lacking common sense, but great googly moogly Batman, even I could figure that one out.

Wait.  Maybe I AM a mental giant!  Hot damn!

Jonesing for Germ-X

As mentioned in the previous post, we've been closed while we have new carpet installed.  And we're still having to tell people that we're closed.  Today, a lady came in and asked to copy something (man, people miss the damn copier, don't they?), I stopped a guy in the parking lot when I got to work (uh, we're closed... need to return those books?) and a guy walked in yesterday afternoon wanting to use a computer.  (He said this AFTER walking past the giant closed sign, seeing the moved furniture and seeing that the PCs were unplugged AND moved.  Moron.)  And we kicked out two people who'd walked into the back foyer and proceeded to look at the biographies that had been stacked on a table while we moved shelves. 

Me:  Sir?  I'm sorry, we're closed.
Patron:  Oh? (continues to look at books)
Me:  There's a big sign on the door stating that we're closed.
Patron:  Well, I walked right past it. (CONTINUES to look at books)
Me:  Sir.  You're going to have to leave. 
Patron:  Are these books for sale?
Me:  No, sir.  We have to move the books so we can move the shelves.  We're getting new carpet.
Patron.  (again) Oh.  (CONTINUES TO LOOK AT BOOKS)
Me:  Sir.  I'm sorry, you have to leave.
Patron:  Oh.  Uh, okay.

OMFG. 

We've been blessed to have the help of some of the inmates from the local jail.  Most of the guys have been busting their asses helping - scraping the carpet pad off the floor, hauling garbage to the dumpster, moving furniture, etc.  Pretty much, they do anything they're asked, as they're just happy to be out of the jail for a few hours.  We've had several different crews in for projects, but have gotten a few guys multiple times.  All in all, most of them are good guys who did something stupid and got caught.

Then there was the grizzly guy.  The only one who gave me the heebie jeebies.  But ya know, life goes and you do your own thing.  Until you're told that this same guy was spiking his coffee.  We kept coffee going for the guys, also letting them have soda, cookies, pizza, and more.  Apparently that wasn't enough for old grizzly.  He was making himself a cup of coffee and then spiking it with Germ-X, trying to get high. 

Um, EWW. 

He was reported to the guard in charge (the dude sitting on the other side of the library, not paying attention to his charges) and we hid the Germ-X.  Never a dull moment at the library!

We're closed. No, really. WE ARE CLOSED.

I worry about people.  Seriously.  Since mid-December, our library has had signs up, stating that we would be closed this week for the installation of new carpet.  These signs were posted on the front door, the rear door and at the circulation desk.  In addition, our tech-savvy director posted the notice repeatedly on our Twitter feed and FaceBook pages.  Notices were also on the local radio station, the community calendar on the local tv station and in the paper as a great column written by the director, as well.  Oh, one great librarian even made little bookmarks with a calendar printed on them, all dates we'd be closed marked clearly.  We passed them out to our patrons as they checked out books, asked questions, etc.  All bases covered, right?

Wrong.

Even though we're closed, most of us will be working all week.  Many of us reported to work today to move books, move furniture, weed books, etc.  Not long after we would have opened, the people started showing up (even with the ginormous dumpster in the parking lot).  The back door doesn't always latch, so some patrons even made it inside, but turned away rather amicably when we explained (again) that we were closed.  We then figured that the problem would rectify itself when patrons would be forced to read the signs!  AHA!

Nope.

The back door had to be unlocked since carpet and carpet pad scraps were being hauled to the dumpster.  Oh no!  Even with furniture scattered, books piled high on book carts near the door, completely empty shelves AND carpet being ripped up around the circulation desk, patrons now proceeded to walk all the way to the front desk and look around.  Several apologized and walked away once they were informed that we were closed.  Some even said "oh yeah, I remember hearing/seeing/reading that."  Yet, none of them stopped of their own volition.  They had to be told by a librarian that we were, in fact, closed and not just going for the shabby chic look.

Then, there was the older gentleman who walked past all of the tornadic activity to where the copier usually stays.  (I should point out that it's location is the beginning point of where carpet was being torn up.)  He looked at the empty spot.  He then looked around at the workers ripping up carpet.

Patron:  Where's the copier?
Co-worker: I'm sorry sir, we're closed. 
Patron: So, I can't make any copies?
Co-worker:  Sorry, sir, we're closed this week.  (points to nearly naked floor) We're getting new carpet.
Patron:  Why can't I use the copier?

I wish I'd been there.  I got the replay from our teen librarian who thought it was me telling the dude to leave.  Alas, no.  After that, I found the gigantic pad of paper, wrote "CLOSED - Will Re-open Next Week" in very large letters and placed it on the back door (next to the other sign already stating that we were closed).  A while later, I was near the back door and saw a mother and daughter standing at the back door, looking at the sign.  I opened the door:

Me:  Sorry, ma'am we're closed this week.  New carpet.
Mother: Oh, I think I remember hearing that on the radio. (continues to stare at sign)
Me:  Do you need to return those books?
Mother:  Oh yes.  I thought the book drop was back here.
Me:  No ma'am.  The book drop is at the front door.  (takes books from mother and daughter)  It's always been there. 

After that, I took the sign down and added "Please return books next week."  Did I mention that we made sure that no books would be due while we're closed?  The rest of this week should be interesting.