It is a little known fact, but librarians share in a Sacred Code. This Code is the ultimate standard of our kind: the torch we carry in the long, dark night of Librarianism. We hold it proudly, brandishing it with humility and absolute devotion. It is the Code that shapes our behavior and defines our very being.
This Code has been known by no outsider–until now.
“I declare myself a Librarian, and swear myself to this Sacred Code. I acknowledge that I am but a humble servant of society, and forfeit my identity and rights as an individual. I willingly lay down my right to personal space. I accept that I shall henceforth be a surrogate mother to all patrons: I shall clean up their messes, their puke, their children’s puke, and re-shelve all of their carelessly tossed books. I shall silently tolerate their screaming fits when they fail to read signs about Internet usage limits, fines, and behavioral expectations. I will cater to their every need: from, “Will you set up my email account for me?” to “I need help with my taxes,” to “I just can’t understand why my husband left me!” I will follow their children around, cleaning up trails of toys, chewed books, urine and bubblegum. I will assist the man who speaks only to my chest; I will converse with the woman whose breath is foul enough to kill kittens. I will smile when they scream, smile when curse, smile when they are demanding and irrational. I am a Librarian: I am all things to all people. By this Code I do swear.”
Despite the fact that this Code has never before been published for public perusal, the patrons of libraries far and wide seem to have a sixth sense for the Code, and willingly oblige librarians with constant opportunities to fulfill their pledge to it. The stories on this site are just a few examples of patron expectations…and of the Librarians of The Code.
Keep submitting your stories to us at: email@example.com
As always, thanks for all the fish!
~The Merry Librarian