(I am showing a guy how to use the copier.)

Me: “Lift the lid from the front.”

Patron: *ignores me and keeps trying the side*

Me: “The front.”

Patron: *ignores*

(I reach over and lift it for him.)

Me: “That’s the front. Do you want me to make your copy for you?”

Patron: *ignores me again* “So, I put it like this?” *flops the thing down diagonal on the glass*

Me: “Which side do you want to copy?”

Patron: *silence*

Me: “Which side–”

Patron: “So, it’s a dime?”

Me: “Which–”

Patron: “A dime?”

Me: “Wait a sec. Which side do you want to copy?”

(A minute or two later.)

Me: “Press copy and press start.”

Patron: *stares at the machine*

Me: “Copy is the first button on the screen.”

Patron: *stares*

Me: “Just press copy.”

Patron: “Now?”

Me: “Yes. Okay, now press start. It’s the giant green button.”

Patron: *stares at the screen*

Me: “On the right, in the keypad.”

Patron: *stares*

Me: “On the right.”

Patron: *stares*

Me: “The right. It’s the only green one.”

Patron: *stares*

(I reach over and point.)

Me: “Press this button.”

Patron: “Now?”

(I work at a public library. Patrons often ask us how to print from the computers.)

Patron: “I need to pay for my printing.”

Me: “Okay. When you hit the print button, how much did it say it was going to cost?”

Patron: “I did not hit the print button.”

Me: “What computer were you sitting at?”

Patron: *impatient* “I was not sitting at a computer. I am trying to print from the typewriter!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I am confused. You were not sitting at a computer, but at the typewriter? And you want to print what you typed?”

Patron: “This is ridiculous! I cannot believe you won’t help me!” *leaves*

(It’s finals week and a student approaches our help desk.)

Student: “Your copy machine isn’t working. My papers wont come out.”

Me: “It’s probably jammed. I’ll have my coworker fix that for you.”

(My coworker follows the student to the copy machines. After a few minutes, the student runs by me in tears. My coworker comes back a few moments later.)

Me: “What happened?!”

Coworker: “She used the shredder instead of the copy machine.”

(I work at a university library and we sometimes get calls about our online databases not working. 90% of the time, it’s due to cookies not being enabled.)

Me: “[Library], this is [name], how can I help you?”

Patron: “Yeah, hi, I can’t get [database] to work.”

Me: “All right, do you know if you have cookies enabled?”

Patron: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, open the internet and click on—”

(I proceed to walk her through enabling cookies. After each step, I wait for the confirming “okay” from her.)

Me: “…and that’s it! Does the page work now?”

Patron: “No.”

Me: “Did you enable the cookies?”

Patron: “No, but I did close the internet! It should work when I open it again, right?”

Me: “No, ma’am. We need to apply a setting.”

(I proceed to explain the process a second time, this time asking if she completed the step after each one.)

Me: “Okay, try to open the page again. Does it work?”

Patron: “No.”

Me: “Did you allow the cookies?”

Patron: “No. I closed everything.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, please click—”

Patron: “This is frustrating! It should work if I restart the internet. I need [database] for class. Why won’t it work?”

Me: “As I’ve already said, you need to enable cookies.”

(We go through this process a third time.)

Patron: “I can’t do this. I need to speak to someone else. I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

Me: “All right, ma’am, the librarian is right here. I hope she can help. Have a nice day.”

(I happily give the phone over to my boss, who at this point is giving me the “I will kill you for making me talk to this person” glare.)

(I work as a volunteer at our small public library, usually at the front desk, helping patrons and checking out their books.)

Woman: *approaching desk* “Do you have…Hunger Pains?”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Woman: “I think it’s called Hunger…Pains?

Me: “Oh, The Hunger Games? It’s very popular right now.”

Woman: “Oh, right. My son told me the name. I knew I was going to get it wrong!”

(A woman comes up and gives me $2 for her daughter to print. With our computers, you need to have money in your account in order to print. The daughter prints something, then tries to print again. The mother comes up twice, complaining that nothing is coming out and that something is wrong.)

Me: “How much is it saying it will cost?”

Patron: “We have enough.”

Me: “Okay, then it should print.”

Patron: “It’s saying it’s printing, but nothing is coming out.”

(I go over and try to print it. They don’t have enough.)

Me: “You need to put more money on the card.”

Patron: “Why?!”

Me: “The prints costs more than you have on there.”

Patron: “But she only printed once.”

Me: “This new print costs $1.50. She already spent at least $0.70, from what I can see. You only gave me $2.”

Patron: “So?”

Me: “So $2 minus $0.70 is less than $1.50.”

Patron: “I don’t get it.”

Me: “You need to give me more money for the prints.”

Patron: “But why?!”

Related:
Some Things Just Don’t Add Up, Part 5
Some Things Just Don’t Add Up, Part 4
Some Things Just Don’t Add Up, Part 3
Some Things Just Don’t Add Up, Part 2
Some Things Just Don’t Add Up

Patron: “Do you have any magazines with pictures in them?”

Me: “All of our magazines are against the back wall.”

Patron: “No, the magazines that have the pictures and you have to figure out what it is.”

Me: “Well, you can look on the back wall and see if—”

Patron: “Just tell me where the books are, then.”

(I point to the books, which take up the whole right side of the building.)

Me: “The books are all in that side of the building.”

Patron: “Well, just tell me where the books with pictures are.”

Me: “Many books have pictures. You’re going to need a title.”

Patron: “Never mind!” *walks away*

Patron: “Do you have a typewriter?”

Me: “No, sorry. We haven’t had one in a while, but I can show you how to use Word.”

Patron: “No, I need a typewriter. I want to put an address on an envelope.”

Me: “Well you can do that in—”

Patron: “I can’t believe you don’t have a typewriter. What kind of library doesn’t have a typewriter?! Where can I find one?”

Me: “I really don’t know. You could try [office supply store], I suppose.”

(The man leaves, grumbling. The next woman in line comes up.)

Patron #2: “I don’t suppose your computers can take floppies?”

(I work in the call center of a public library. Occasionally, we get strange callers just because it is free and we are required to talk to them.)

Caller: “You need to help me! The Mormons are giving electric shocks to my genitals through my windows!”

Me: “Um, this is a library, I’m not sure what—”

Caller: “You have to help me! I called the police but they won’t help me. They say I’m crazy. It’s the Mormons! They keep shocking my genitals!”

Me: “Well, uh, let me put you on hold for a second.”

(I put her on hold and call out the situation to the other librarians in the call center. One of them happens to be Mormon.)

Me: “I have a caller who claims Mormons are shocking her genitals through her windows.”

Mormon coworker: “We are.”

(Our location has two entrances, one of which is closed because of unsafe conditions on the adjacent sidewalk due to a recent snowstorm. A woman approaches me as I’m shelving books.)

Patron: “Hi. You look like who I need to complain to.”

Me: “Okay. What seems to be the problem?”

Patron: “These conditions are unacceptable. I had to walk another block just to get in here. All because you and your employees are too lazy to pick up a shovel and clear that sidewalk.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t have the say as to whether that sidewalk is open or not. The city made that decision yesterday for safety reasons.”

Patron: “I should have known when I saw you that you weren’t going to help me. You have that kind of face.”

Me: *speechless*

(At this point, another patrons steps in at my defense.)

Another Patron: “Excuse me, miss, I hope that you’re not referring to the sidewalk on [street]. My name is [name]. I’m a civil engineer for the city and I can assure that, given the water main rupture and the three feet of frozen ice/slush, it’s going to take an extensive amount of labor to clear and fix that sidewalk. Furthermore, I find it incredibly insensitive that you would complain about this inconvenience to you when, just the other day, a poor boy slipped and fell and broke both legs on that very sidewalk.”

Patron: *dumbfounded* “Well, I didn’t…” *walks away*