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.