-Excellent
Labels: altruism, bourbon, excellent help bitch, help desk, Library, patrons
Labels: computers, patrons, ZenJul 8, 2008
Today’s mantra: “I am not a babysiitter. I am not a babysitter.”
Repeat. When you have to get up for the tenth time to tell the kids on computer number 2 that library chairs are not built to hold four people.
Repeat. When you have to ask the guy at the reservation computer to please stop hitting every button on the coin and bill acceptor, especially as he isn’t trying to print something.
Repeat. When you get asked again where the restrooms are, the restrooms that are in fact located directly behind the person asking the question..
Repeat. When you ask the little brat where is your mommy? And for that matter, where are your shoes and pants?
Repeat. When the bag of cookies that a mother is opening to give to her screaming toddler explodes across the keyboard of the computer they are seated at.
Repeat. Repeat. Follow with a large dose of bourbon in the parking lot. Then Repeat.
Labels: ahhh, annoying, coworkers, patronsJun 20, 2008That being said, there was actually a patron who managed to outdo her today on the screaming bloody annoyance scale, when she had to go home and come back at least four times because she was over her fine limit, didn't understand the concept of having too many items overdue, had mixed up the discs in her CD cases, and since she has fucked up her own card so badly she can no longer use it, she is now fucking up her daughter's card just as badly. AND whenever she has to pay an overdue/lost/damaged fee, doesn't fail to accuse us of fucking up and losing her items/failing to check in her items/any number of strangely outlandish scenarios she can think of to avoid taking responsibility. Well, it ain't gonna work, lady! Your reputation precedes you, and nobody in our branch is going to buy your story.The rest of the day was pretty okay, though.
Labels: bitch printer printing tantrum, DVD, excellent help bitch, patrons, VHSJun 18, 2008
Lovely patron this afternoon. She wanted me to find her some VHS tapes. No, she can't wait for them to be brought from other branches. She needs them now. The specific ones she wants are only available at another branch, and most of them are only available on DVD. She doesn't have a DVD player. We are discriminating against patrons that don't have DVD players. And she can't wait. Fine. She just wants to see what VHS we DO have. But she really needs some documentaties. That lady at the desk already showed her where they were, but now she can't remember. They were over “there” somewhere.
“Over there” somewhere turned out to be the mystery section. The mystery BOOK section.
“These are books. But I can show you where the VHS would be.”
“No. The lady told me they were here. These are all documentaries.”
“These are books. Mystery Books.”
“No. See. They're tapes.” She pulls one off the shelf. “Oh. I guess they are books. Where's the VHS? She told me they was here.”
“As I was saying, if you will follow me to the next aisle.”
“Where's all the VHS? Is this a VHS? I need a documentary.”
“These are DVD. See, the case is too small for a tape to fit into. We do have a few VHS. Here's one.”
“No. That's not it.”
“And here's one. We are phasing them out.”
“This is bullshit. I need VHS. You are discriminating against me.”
“As I said, I would be happy to reserve something from another branch for you.”
“This is bullshit. What about these? Are these VHS?”
“Those are books on tape.”
“No. That lady told me these are VHS.”
“I can assure you that they are books. On Cassette tape. And CD, in fact.”
“This is bullshit. You're discriminating against me.”
And so on. But it gets better. She finally turned around in the aisle and told me that she was done with me, there was nothing I could do to help her. So I went back over to the reference desk and started to help a nice elderly man who had been patiently waiting with a real reference question for about ten minutes. Just as I started to enter his information into my computer she came back over to my desk.
“I need you to reserve me those VHS.”
“Certainly, but I'm helping another patron right now.”
“No. I was here first.”
“And then you said you were done and I am helping another patron. But if you will just give me your library card I will see what.....”
“This is bullshit.”
And she left the building in full-grown-adult bitchy tantrum mode, leaving my other patron to stare at me like a bitch with two heads.
And that was just a minor event from the hell that was today.
Labels: computer, internet, lobotomy, patrons, typingMay 14, 2008
A young-ish guy came over and complained that his computer wasn't working and he wanted a different one. The keyboard was sticking. I went over and did some test-typing and it seemed fine to me, but he was insistant that when he used it, it didn't work, and he wanted another computer.
Ok. I'm getting pretty sick of fighting with people about computers (incidentally, when you have 6 windows open of your web-based email service, it slows down the computer, therefore there will probably be a little bit of a lag between when you hit a key and when the letter shows up on the screen. It's not the fucking keyboard's fault), so I decide to humour him. I told him that I couldn't assign him to a specific computer, but I would take that one out of service so that the automated system would assign him to a different one. He seemed happy with this solution. I figured that after he left I would boot it back up again and everybody would be happy.
Stupid me. I walked away from the area for a minute and when I came back he was attempting to log-in to the "broken" computer again.
"I just took that one out of service, it's not going to let you login, remember?"
"Yeah. But I saved my file on here and I need to get it before I can work on the other computer."
"........"
Which led to a conversation about what happens to your files when you save them to temporary folders, and why his files are gone, and WHY THE COMPUTER IS OUT OF SERVICE.
I'm just going to start telling patrons: "All of the computers are broken. We have shitty equipment. Also, I am an idiot. And yes, I am the only idiot who is trained to help you. This in no way reflects on your ability or inability to operate a computer. I'm sure you know exactly what you are doing.
That should just about cover it. Meanwhile I'm going to go have a lobotomy. I think I'll be much happier.
Labels: Copier, customer service, Library Cards, Monday, patrons, phoneMay 5, 2008
As always, having fun in the library on Monday:
On the phone with a patron:
“Ok. I just need your library card number.”
“Card number? What’s that?”
“It’s the number on your library card..”
“Oh ok. I see. 555-BOOK.”
"Umm. That sounds like the number for the main branch of our library.”
“It’s the only number on the card. I’ve got it right here in front of me.”
“Well… the number you just read, ending in BOOK, is a telephone number. The library card number is on your card. Probably on the other side….”
“That’s the only number on the card.”
“Ok….”
Then there’s the elderly patron on the copier. He’s a regular. I know the machines are confusing. I know it’s crazy of us to expect you to make your own copies, but that’s what Kinkos is for. If you don’t want to or are unable to make your own copies, please go there. I’m not a copy girl. If I make your copies for you that’s all I will have to time to do today. I can show you how to use the machine; I can’t do it for you. That what “self serve” means.
“”Well fine. Show me how it works, then.”
“You put the paper here, face-up.”
“Like this?”
“No. With the text facing up, so you can see it.”
“Here.”
“No. So you can see the writing on the paper.”
“Well I can’t figure out what you’re talking about with these crazy machines.”
“You see the picture on top? Put the paper just like the picture shows.”
“Like this?”
“No. Turn it over…. here. Fine. I’ll do it. Now hit the green button to make your copy.”
“Which button do I hit?”
“The big green one.”
“This one?”
“No. The green one. The one that says start.”
I really think he’s just messing with me to take up as much of my time as he possibly can because I wouldn’t hit the fucking copy button for him. The girl at the desk just told him to read the instructions on the lid, though. That’s what I get for trying to provide customer service. Next time I’ll be like every other disgruntled library employee and just point.
