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The Library is Closed

I have a personal policy that if a patron has overdue materials, and this is their first time being overdue, and they have the materials with them to check in, that I’m going to just override the checkin so that they do not get fines that first time.  I call it a kharma deposit.  But I do not do this if you lie to me; because lying negates the necessity of a kharma deposit, since I’m not helping out a person who was mistaken; I would be helping out a liar. 

The trouble is, that you cannot always figure out who’s the liar . . . until it’s too late.

Me:     OK, I have provided you with a courtesy override of your fines today.  Next time, please be sure to call us so we can renew your items so you can avoid late fees.

Patron:     I did call, but you were closed.

Me:     Sir, your items were due one month ago.

Patron:      I know, but you were closed.

For a whole month, we were closed.  Wish I had known that, I would have enjoyed the vacation . . .

Goblin King

A Rose by Any Other Name

would probably be called Esor, or something equally unbelievable.

I thought that my mother’s stories regarding the crazy names she encountered as a school teacher could not be topped.  I mean, she had a student with the name Nosredna Anderson!  Can you guess how her (yes, her) parents came up with that name?  Can you?

Maybe this will help:

nosrednA | Anderson

Anyways . . . this happened:

me:         Excuse me, but your child cannot be standing on top of the computer desk.

Patron:           Wachovia, get down!

Wachovia.  Wow.  Wachovia.

The Lesser Pee Pee Puddle

Previously on Dewey It To Me One More Time . . . The Great Pee Pee Puddle grew large and caused a general disturbance and yuckiness in the library.

And now, Chapter 2, The Lesser Pee Pee Puddle

Time passed, and went by, and the innocent librarian nearly forgot all about The Great Pee Pee Puddle.  She had thrown it away, and it was gone.

But not for good, for, the innocent librarian soon found out about the Lesser Pee Pee Puddle!  One day, as she stood at the circulation desk, quietly checking in and checking out books, she heard a small trickle. The slightest noise of water running.

“That’s odd,” she said to her fellow librarian, “it isn’t raining outside, but I could swear I hear water trickling!”

“We better not look,” said her fellow librarian.  “It is best not to know. Remember nugget #3!”

But she could not help it.  She got up to investigate.  She looked in non-fiction, she looked around the DVDs, she navigated reference and Spanish language, and went all the way back to language instruction, but could not find the source of trickle.

Being not-so-innocent any longer, she dreaded checking the children’s department.  Who knew what she would find in there!  Anything was possible!

But went she did, for it was her job?  Her duty?  Her responsibility.  Yeah, that’s it, her responsibility!

And low and behold, she found the source of the trickle.  It came from the back of a chair.  From the back of the chair where the same patron who had created the legendary Great Pee Pee Puddle was sitting!  How should she proceed?  Surely this patron was aware of the drip?  Of the wet underwear?  Of the warm feeling below?

Nay, this patron was not aware!  For, as the innocent librarian sprouted the courage to ask,

“Excuse me, but did you know that you’re urinating on the floor?”

The patron replied, “No I’m not.”

Oh, but the patron WAS.  So before the Lesser Pee Pee Puddle could grow, the innocent librarian said,

“Please go to the restroom and clean yourself up.”

But the patron didn’t!  The patron just left the library.

And a trail of pee pee behind them.

Wisdom

For the record, I did not come up with these.

Librarians For Real

Biblioburro

Anatomy of a Librarian

Not to sure about the salary figure, but, it’s pretty good otherwise.

++ Click to Enlarge Image ++

Image Source: Online Masters

Book Review – Time Was Soft There

Time Was Soft There: A Paris Sojourn at Shakespeare & Co.

by Mercer, Jeremy

Memorable Quote:  “After that, I put more faith in Chris’s stories. When you see a man holding a machine gun, all of a sudden all his other wild tales become a little more credible.”

This book chronicles what happened to Jeremy Mercer when he ended up living at Shakespeare & Co. in Paris, France.  Mercer describes in vivid detail the odd collection of personalities that land at Shakespeare & Co., from long-time owner George Whitman to Mercer himself.  Mercer’s story revolves around the evolution of Shakespeare & Co. through time, providing an exposition of the day-to-day life at the store-come-residence.  It is here that a myriad set of individuals come to spend time – having lost their fortune, lost there way, lost their loved ones – all united by the desire to write.  Those having some ability to write as deemed by George himself after scrutiny of their work are permitted to stay at the store “monetary rent” free while they write or otherwise “work” on their work.  You’ll enjoy this ride through Paris on the edge of poverty, in the mix of intellectuals, and under the wing of Mercer, who carries you along on his journey with compelling anecdotes and provides a window into a world you otherwise would never see.