I hear several exclamations that may or may not have contained language unacceptable according to our rules of conduct, and I see a group of people, mostly children, jumping up and backing away from the children's computers. Any expletives uttered in the heat of the moment would decidedly have been forgivable, for from the jumble of conversation that has erupted I pick the words "huge spider." I think 'Well, okay, it's going to be one of these spiders about the size of my thumbnail, and I'll catch it with something and put it outside.' I had done that very thing with a spider found behind our circulation desk the day before. I wander over to the children's computer area and ask if anybody knows where it is. It is under the computer tables. It is the biggest spider I have ever seen in that building. Now, I've seen some pretty big spiders, both in the wild and in zoos and museums, but the largest arachnids our library usually houses are not all that impressive. This is a wolf spider. It is much bigger than the one that was living in my desk some time back. Its body is at least an inch long, and from front toe to back toe it is about as long as my thumb. "That's a big'un," I say. I tell everybody I'll be right back, and I quickly retrieve a clear container from the kitchen cupboard and a discarded headphone box. I tear off one side of the box, shoo the spider out from the tangle of cords under the tables, and swiftly bring the plastic cage down over it when it rushes out into the open. I carefully slide the cardstock under the container, pick it up and take it outside, letting it go near the back of the building where it has many choices of habitation and food. But not, of course, before showing it around.
Labels: awesome, big, fun, screaming, spider
Sep 19, 2008
Today’s line-up: The first computer has a girl seated, wearing a battered tank top. Her back is to me, and I can see that somebody has written on the back in permanent marker an arrow pointing at her exposed ass crack and the words “Only an entrance.”
Three guys on on the next three computers are on their MySpace. One in pajamas. One in a well-pressed and starched brown business suit with a yellow tie. (Where did that guy come from? Must be FBI).
Guy on the computer around the corner is a regular. He keeps looking up at me and winking. He’s the one that thinks I’m a pot dealer, and daily tries to score some leaf from me. ("I’m sorry, sir. I can’t help you with that.")
In actuality it is unusually quiet in here for a Friday morning. And nobody has called me a bitch or any racially tainted slurs, yet. It’s not a bad day.
Nope. I spoke too soon.
Labels: altruism, bourbon, excellent help bitch, help desk, Library, patronsSep 15, 2008
It seems like all I do lately is whine about how shitty my job is. If I'm this annoying to myself, it must be worse for the people who are around me.
I am just not suited to work in customer service. I really do hate people. I try not to think “what the fuck do you want now?” when I see a patron approaching my desk. I know that such thinking can probably be read in my face, thus screwing any chance I had of having a normal, friendly conversation with said patron.
But knowing in advance that their question will be one of three things (“Do you have a bathroom? Why aint' my puter working? Do you have this movie yet that won't be released in the theaters for another month but I know you have it cause I saw it on your shelf last week?”) precludes any ability on my part to be optimistic regarding our interaction.
I really am just a fucking snob. And there isn't enough coffee in the world to stay perky when you are being called a bitch on a daily basis for offering FREE help for anything a person can think of. Fuck altruism. I'm switching to bourbon.
Sep 10, 2008
I’m sorry , I didn’t hear what you said. Your bare nipples are distracting me. Maybe you should rethink your wardrobe before leaving your house and dragging your ass into our fine library.
Sep 8, 2008
So far:
Two request’s for Disney Princess movies.
One request for Disney Princess books.
And the computer crowd:
“Why isn’t my MySpace working?”
“MySpace is all fucked up what did you do?”
“I need the liberrian to get that book on dog names I had before.”
“”MySpace aint' working.”
“Nothing happens when I click here.”
I haven’t had nearly enough coffee yet.
