I volunteer at a library, and one day I witnessed this gem. Now, I don’t remember exactly, and I walked in halfway through the story, so it’s not word-for-word.

A woman with two young children is arguing with a librarian.

Librarian: “I’m sorry, but we can’t let you do that.”

Patron: *Holding books.* “You mean just because I moved out of [Library Area], I can’t use this library anymore? What kind of bull-s*** is that?!”

Librarian: “You can use the library at [Patron’s New Town].”

Patron: *Shouting.* “I’m not doing this f****** s***! You need to do what I say! I’m not arguing in front of my kids! Just know, I will write to the town and get you fired!”

She then storms out with the books in hand.

I later found out this woman tried to borrow books, but couldn’t, because she moved to another town, then yelled at the librarian when she explained it.

The librarian never got fired and still works there to this day. The woman never did return those books, though.

At the library where I worked, books had two forms of identification: a bar code tag on the back cover and a thin metal strip hidden inside the spine. The strip triggered the security alarm if it wasn’t deactivated at checkout. After our biannual book sale, this happens…

A man with a large backpack tries to leave. The alarm blares, and he’s escorted back to the desk. He immediately raises a fuss, but eventually, with much grumbling, he pulls out a hardback book with its entire back cover torn off.

Patron: “This is my book!”

Me: “Sir, you set off the security alarm. That book isn’t checked out to you. Also, it’s damaged.”

Patron: “No, I got this at the book sale the other day! It’s not a library book anymore! It’s been… uh, it’s been…”

Fellow Librarian: “Withdrawn?”

Patron: “Yes! Withdrawn! I paid for it, so it’s mine!”

Fellow Librarian: “Sir, if this had been withdrawn, it would be stamped ‘WITHDRAWN’ on the title page and back cover. The back cover’s missing, but I don’t see a stamp anywhere.”

Patron: “It was like this when I got it!”

Me: “If a book was in the sale in that condition, it would also be stamped ‘DAMAGED.’ No stamp here.”

Patron: “IT’S MINE!”

Fellow Librarian: “Also, sir, all books sold at the book sale have their security tags deactivated. This one clearly hasn’t.”

Patron: “There’s no bar code, is there?”

Me: “Sir… the bar code isn’t the security feature.”

Patron: “…It’s not?”

Fellow Librarian: “Nope.”

The man grabs his backpack and bolts. Later, up in the stacks, I find the missing back cover, with the intact bar code, stuffed between two books exactly where the title belongs. Nice try. At the next sale, my coworker officially bought the same book (now stamped WITHDRAWN) and, for weeks, made a big show of strolling back and forth through security with it, just to rub it in.

I’m in the middle of loading the dishwasher when my phone rings. It’s my mom. She’s babysitting my daughter for the weekend. I pick up, expecting a cute update, but instead, I get the exasperated sigh of a woman at her wits’ end.

Grandma: “She’s not listening today. I told her to stop bossing the cat, and when she didn’t, I sent her to her room. That was this morning, and she hasn’t come back out!”

Me: “Wait… you sent her to her room? Does she have her books in there?”

Grandma: “Yes. I think so.”

I try not to laugh.

Me: “Mom, that’s not a punishment for her. That’s a spa day. She’s a book-loving introvert. You basically handed her a personal reading retreat.”

There’s silence on the line, then a slightly suspicious:

Grandma: “…She did take a snack with her. And a blanket.”

Me: “Exactly. If you really want to punish her, tell her she has to go outside and play with the neighbor kids.”

There’s a pause, then I hear Grandma call out off-phone:

Grandma: “Hey! Behave or I’ll make you go outside and play!”

From the background, a panicked screech:

Daughter: “NOOOOOO—” *Click.*

My brother and I are both adults. He’s asked me to read the first draft of his fantasy novel, which I have been doing over the last few days when I have the time.

Me: “Hey, [Brother]. I just got to the part of the story where the group gets to the wizard’s city.”

Brother: “Oh, cool! What do you think?”

Me: “Well, I enjoyed it, but let me read the description out loud.”

Book: “The city rose from the dunes like a mirage. Neon towers shimmered with arcane power, promising pleasure, wealth, and indulgence. Once inside, few ever left, trapped not by walls, but by desire. Illusions catered to every whim, every sin, draining coin and sanity alike…”

I lower the pages.

Me: “You just described Las Vegas.”

He stares at me. Silent. Processing. Then he goes:

Brother: “Oh, crap. You’re right.”

Me: “Congrats. You reinvented Nevada with elves.”

On his second draft, the city was relocated to a jungle!

The phone rings. I answer.

Me: “Thanks for calling [Bookstore]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’ve got a list of books. I need you to read me the entire back cover on each of them.”

Me: “We can certainly check if they’re in stock for you.”

Customer: “No, no, I don’t care about stock. Just read me the backs. All of them. I want to know if I like the sound before I drive over.”

Me: “Sir, that would take quite a bit of time. Maybe you could check the descriptions online?”

Customer: “I don’t trust the internet. You’ll read them. I’ve got twelve books on this list.”

Me: “Twelve?”

Customer: “Yeah. Start with number one. And don’t skip a word. I’ll know if you skip a word.”

Me: “Sir, I can help with quick questions, but I can’t read out twelve entire blurbs over the phone while there are customers in the store.”

Customer: “Why not? I’m a paying customer!”

Me: “Not yet, you’re not.”

Customer: “So you’re refusing service? I’ll just take my business elsewhere!”

Me: “Sir, this is a bookstore, not an audiobook service. Make the drive over and read the blurbs yourself. It’ll be good practice for reading the whole thing—”

Customer: *Click.*