I worked at the front desk for a twenty-four-hour college library. This was a huge building — ten floors. According to my health app, it was about two miles to patrol every floor, not counting the stairs. We had a front desk separate from the checkout desk, and the phone number on our website connected to the phone at this desk.

One night, during finals season, we got a call from a woman asking if we knew where her daughter was. We did not. She then explained that she had been tracking her daughter’s phone. It hadn’t moved for the past six hours, and she was worried about her.

Me: “Well, if your daughter is a student, she’s probably studying. We have a cafe in the building as well, so she wouldn’t even have to leave the building to get food. Your daughter’s phone hasn’t moved likely because there’s no need for it to.”

Woman: “Yes, but she was supposed to text me back, and she hasn’t! You need to find her; she could be kidnapped! Call her on the PA system!”

I explained that we do not have a PA system like that. (Our PA can only do prerecorded messages.)

Woman: “Well then, just go look for her!”

This was a university library during finals week. I was not walking through ten floors and asking every study group if they knew a [Daughter] and telling her to call her mom. I am barely paid enough to do my regular patrols; I was not paid enough to do this one.

Me: “Ma’am, if you’re really worried, call the police.”

Woman: “I tried that, but they said she’s an adult!”

Me: “She’s an adult? Ma’am, how old is your daughter?”

Woman: “She’s twenty-two!”

I barely, barely managed to keep myself from saying something rude. Instead, I managed to get out something like:

Me: “Well, she’s in a library during finals week. You don’t have to worry. It’s normal for students to spend this long here. She’ll probably call you back soon.”

And I got her off the phone.

Unfortunately, this woman called back an hour later when I had been replaced by one of our student workers on the desk. This student worker was very nice, bless her, but ended up looking up the twenty-two-year-old’s information in the student directory to send her an email telling her to come to the front desk and call her mom back. Which she did. The poor girl looked humiliated.

I hope that the twenty-two-year-old realizes how much her mom crossed a line and was able to set boundaries with her. But also I hope that Mom realized how ridiculous it was to expect a twenty-two-year-old college student to be at her beck and call during finals week.

A patron comes up to the desk holding a paperback mystery novel.

Patron: “Hey, I think this book is missing the final pages.” 

Me: “Oh? What seems to be the problem?” 

Patron: “Well, I got to the end, and they never explained who the killer was.”

Me: *Flipping to the last few pages.* “Huh… that is strange. Let me check, oh! This is book one in a trilogy. The final book must wrap it up.” 

Patron: “So they just didn’t tell me on purpose?!” 

Me: “Kind of. It’s a suspense thing. Like a cliffhanger.”

Patron: “That’s not a cliffhanger. That’s emotional embezzlement.”

I work at a library. One of our regular patrons is a teenage girl who wears a burqa. The girl was always pleasant and always stopped to talk to me.

One day, another patron is giving us dirty stares as the teenage girl talks to me. When the girl leaves, the other patron rushes over.

Patron: “Are you crazy? You can’t let her wear that in here! She could be hiding a bomb!”

Me: “That’s a pretty big handbag you have there. How do I know you’re not hiding a bomb?”

Patron: “That’s different!”

Me: “Yes, I agree. Far easier to hide a bomb inside a big bag like that instead of inside a burqa. You’re far more likely to have one.”

Patron: “I’m obviously not a bomber!”

Me: “Why? What makes it obvious? You’re the one who brought up bombs in the first place.”

Patron: “Well, I’m obviously not one as I’m from here!”

Me: “So is she.”

Patron: “Well… there are other reasons!”

Me: “Are those reasons anything to do with the fact that you’re a big ol’ racist?”

Patron: “It’s not racist to be vigilant! I’m never coming here again!”

She was back next week, and the week after that, and the week after that. Every time we would lock eyes, I would make an explosion sound with my mouth and mimic a bomb going off with my hands. Oddly, she never found it as funny as I did.

I work in a public library. One of the newer services we offer is Wi-Fi Point. It comes in a box, and once it’s checked out, it’s activated for seven days based on a mobile carrier service. After seven days, it shuts off and has to be turned in and processed to turn on again. The Wi-Fi will not work after seven days, and you can’t get a new one until you turn in the old one. If you lose any part of it, you’re fined and can’t check out a new one until it’s paid for or the part is returned. If you have any charges over a certain amount, you can’t check anything out period.

We don’t have late fees, but we do have lost and damaged item fees, so those can add up quickly. People can place items on hold and get added to a queue. If they don’t pick the item up in five days, it goes to the next person in the queue.

Generally, it’s not a big deal, but there has been some ugly behavior over the Wi-Fi Point. We have scripted responses for most issues.

Today, another staff member transferred a call to me saying, “Please answer this. I can’t.” (Uh-oh.)

I started my mandatory introduction with a kill-them-with-kindness voice.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Library] reference desk. My name—”

Patron: “Ugh, I don’t care about your name. Do you have my Wi-Fi box?”

Me: “Can I get your name and birthday, please?”

There are two accounts with the name and birthday, so I chose the first. It was an expired account with a large charge attached, and no holds placed at all. So I checked the other account, and yes, a Wi-Fi Point was currently checked out, and there was a hold for another. She was 200-and-something in line.

Me: “It’s not ready yet, ma’am. You’re [200+] in the queue.”

Patron: “I placed that a week ago! What is the holdup?”

I spoke from the script.

Me: “Unfortunately, we only have so many Wi-Fi Points available, and they are in high demand. For best practice, returning the boxes at the end of their seven-day checkout period will help the queue move quicker.”

Patron: “I ain’t driving all the way over to the library just to drop one off until I can get my next one. This is a s***ty-a** system! Why don’t you just get more?!”

I used my automatic response when people start yelling.

Me: “You’ll get the notification when your hold request is available for pick-up.”

Patron: “I want it now! If I go in and snatch one off the shelf, you can’t stop me!”

Me: “We have a long holds queue, ma’am. They’re all checked out or on hold for someone in the queue.”

Patron: “What about those f****** ones on the shelf?! The frog whatever.”

Back to the script.

Me: “We discontinued the Hoppin’ offerings on Wi-Fi Point to make more available for the holds queue and better serve our patrons.”

Patron: “It would better serve me if you just gave it to us! I need Internet!”

Me: “All of our library locations have free Wi-Fi available twenty-four-seven in our outdoor rest areas and computers for public use during operating hours.”

Patron: “You smart-a**, having all the answers!”

She carried on complaining for several minutes while I muted my phone. I looked at the two accounts with the same name and birthday and confirmed that they were both the same person who had somehow gotten two cards. It happens. There was a note in her record from two years ago that she had confirmed that all the items were damaged and she knew about it, but she was hostile to staff.

Cue petty revenge. I merged the two accounts. Her currently checked-out items and holds were now combined with her old charges. When we discover duplicate accounts, we are supposed to merge them. This is protocol. Sometimes I ignore it, which I probably shouldn’t admit to doing. I just took pleasure in doing it this particular time.

I cheerily interrupted and told her if there was nothing else I could help her with, then she could check her account online at any time or she would get a notification about when her hold would be ready, but she’d have to pay the 480-plus-dollar fine first.

She freaked out and demanded to know what I meant. I told her the list of items and charges, and I explained that she couldn’t check out anything until the fine was paid.

I had to deal with her for a few more minutes, but she had stopped the name-calling and was near panic as I repeatedly told her there was nothing I could do about her charges. I could have put in a special case request to have them waived (common for us to do for people with fines from childhood or extenuating circumstances), but I didn’t feel particularly generous. I added a second note to her account that the patron was hostile to staff, so nobody else would feel like doing it either.

Be nice to your public servants.

I work in a small independent store. The owner likes to support the local library by running fundraising drives for them. A customer has noticed this.

Customer: “Why are you guys all so concerned about the libraries? As if people still go to them anymore.”

Me: “They still provide a great service to many people in the community. The owner is very passionate about keeping them open.”

Customer: “If they could be kept open by their own funding that’s fine, but my tax dollars go to keeping them running and I never go! It’s a waste of my money!”

Me: “I like to think it’s good to help people who can’t afford the books.”

Customer: “I’d rather my tax dollars go to some program that buys books for people who can’t afford it.”

Me: “So… like libraries?”

Customer: “No! My way isn’t socialist!”

Related:
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 9
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 8
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 7
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 6
Needs To Work On Their Socialist Skills, Part 5