Sadly, we have very little to post for you today. The fact of the matter is…we’ve run out of stories! At least, we’ve run out of your stories. Luckily, Merry is not just a pretty face…she spends most of her days behind the desk at her own library. So here are a few strange encounters from Merry herself.
Hurry and send in your stories today! As you can tell, we need your submissions!
A few weeks ago a young woman came up to my desk and said,
“Excuse me, but where are the, like, umm…the normal books? You know, the books normal people read?”
I was a little confused, since I work at a public library and we have all types of books and patrons.
“Do you mean fiction books–like novels, mysteries, and that sort of thing–or non-fiction books–like biographies? Or something else?”
She stared at me for a moment. “I mean, like, you know. The normal books.”
Ah, yes. Very helpful.
“Well,” I said, feeling a bit ill-equipped for this one, “I would be happy to show you to our fiction section. We also have a section of New Books, where you might find the more recent NY Times best-sellers.”
“Yes! That’s what I want! The normal books on the NY Times list.”
I led her to our New Book section and couldn’t help but chuckle as I walked away. Who knew the NY Times best-seller list was just for “normal” people?
My library district recently underwent a major change in technology. Instead of using the bar-code system, we are now proudly using RFID technology in all of our material. The change has been great–but it was certainly not easy to implement.
In order to accomplish this daunting task, branches throughout our district closed on a rolling basis for one week at a time. As it happens, our branch was closed during tax week. Though this would be a slight inconvenience to our patrons, it was absolutely necessary for our successful conversion to the new system, and had been planned, advertised and prepared for for many, many months.
About two days before the closure was to take affect, a well-meaning patron approached me at the desk.
“I see you’re going to be closed next week,” he said, holding up one of our flyers.
“Yes,we are. We are converting our collection to a new technology.”
“Don’t you think the timing is bad? Could I suggest you wait until after tax week? It will be very hard for people to get their taxes done if you’re closed.”
“Well, sir,” I said, “we’ve been planning this closure for a long time now, and have advertised it to the best of our abilities. Every other branch will be open during the week, so you are welcome to use one of the other locations.”
He shook his head. “I’d rather use this one. I don’t understand how you can prioritize library things over tax day.”
“You are welcome to use our computers now to do your taxes if you’d like,” I suggested.
He laughed. “Are you kidding? I never do my taxes until tax day! That’s why I can’t believe you won’t reschedule this RFID thing.”
The conversation continued in this fashion for a few more minutes before he finally realized that he couldn’t talk me (and subsequently the library district…because I’m that powerful…) into rescheduling our district-wide closure calendar to suit his needs. Ah, well. The library can only go so far, I guess.
Do you have a story to share? Send it in! Submit your stories to use at firstname.lastname@example.org today!
Patrons, no matter their economic, social, religious or educational standing can be a teensy bit demanding at times. They demand their fines be forgiven (“I swear I turned that book in! You people lost it, not me!”); they insist we deliver the goods (“My daughter’s report is due tomorrow…how can you not have a single book on her obscure topic available?”); and they expect us to know everything (“Can you show me how to fix my transmission so I don’t have to take my car to a mechanic?”). As it turns out, however, public and academic librarians just might have it easy when it comes to the demands of their patron population…
I am a correctional librarian in Virginia, and with this type of work come lots of funny and/or awkward moments. Most of the time though inmates forget that I am a librarian and not a lawyer …
Me: How can I help you?
Inmate: Well, I want my sentence reduced. (He is talking about a motion of reconsideration, which inmates can file to ask the judge to reconsider and/or modify the sentence … but you need good reasons to prove that you made progress and deserve a shorter sentence).
Me: Okay … do you have good reasons that could convince the judge to reconsider your sentence?
I/m: Well, I am not guilty.
Me: Well, did you plead guilty in court?
Me: Why did you do that if you are innocent?
I/m: My lawyer said to plead guilty so that other charges might be dropped. But I did not do anything, so I want the judge to take time off my sentence.
Me: Well, it is not that easy. Once you said you are guilty, you can’t just go back and say “Well, can you take a few months off my sentence because I am not guilty after all”.
I/m: So what do you advise?
Me: I don’t advise you to do anything, I am not your lawyer.
I/m: But you are the librarian.
Me: (Good observation). Yes, and that is why I can’t give legal advice.
I/m: But my lawyer sucks.
Me: Well, you can complain to the VA state bar and have the lawyer investigated.
I/m: That’s too much work. I just want you to write a letter to the judge saying I am innocent and want my sentence reduced.
Me: -.- I am sorry, I can’t do that.
I/m: Then this jail sucks. Give me a 1983 form so I can file a legal rights suit for you not helping me.
~“Arlene” Virginia, USA
It’s not surprising to interact with patrons who have never read Shakespeare, or even a few who haven’t heard of him. It’s also understandable when people dismiss the bard as “boring” or difficult to understand. Hey, we all have our preferences. This week’s Reference Desk Interaction made us smile because of the unique nature of one patron’s Shakespearean fluency…or lack there of.
This happened in the late 1990s, in the small-town Connecticut library I still work at, when I was first starting out as a library assistant. One afternoon a young woman came in very dressed up, wearing a fur coat and lots of expensive jewelry. (Most of our patrons show up in jeans or what they wore to work that day.) She came to the desk and asked where she could find the Shakespeare books. I took her to the place in the stacks and pulled the ‘Complete Works’ and handed it to her. She opened the book, looked at it for a few seconds, and then asked me if we had it in English. I couldn’t say anything for a few beats, and finally told her gently that it was in English, and that we had Cliff notes and the film versions if she needed them. She ended up taking these things, and told me that her boyfriend was taking her to a dinner party and they would all be talking about the new Shakespeare movie that was out. She felt she needed to prepare because she ‘didn’t know any Shakespeare’.
I am not a literature snob by any stretch. I read everything including cozy mysteries, graphic novels, SF, YA lit, etc. But for someone around my own age to not have any knowledge of literature taught in every high school was amazing to me! It opened my eyes to the fact that social class has nothing to do with education.
~“Amber” Connecticut, USA