(A member calls the library regarding his account.)

Caller: “It shows I still have a DVD on my account, and I was just wondering what that was. I could have sworn I turned them all in.”

Me: “I see you have on your card Roots, disc #3.”

Caller: “Hmm, that can’t be right. We only checked out discs #1 and #2, because we knew we wouldn’t have time to watch them all. There must me a mistake. We do not have Roots, disc #3.”

Me: “Okay, let me go over to the shelf and see if it’s there…” *I check the shelf* “I have on my shelf discs #1, #2, and #4, but not #3. Are you certain you didn’t check it out, possibly at a different time?”

Caller: “No! We do not have it! I already told you we only checked out the first two! If that’s all I took with me, how and why would I have disc #3?”

Me: “I am not sure. Would you like me to transfer you to my supervisor. Maybe she can help you figure out the situation?”

Caller: “No! I want you to fix it, because I don’t have that one!”

Me: “Sir, unless the DVD is on the shelf, there is little that I can do other than give you more time to look for it, or transfer you to my supervisor so she can handle the matter for you.”

Caller: “Well, aren’t you useless?!”

Me: “Okay, just a moment.”

(I transfer the caller to my supervisor. However, twenty minutes later, a man walks in. It’s clear from what he’s carrying he’s the same caller.)

Man: *hands me ‘Roots’ disc #3 and walks away*

(I work in the fines office of a university library. A professor has come in, outraged that he has been blocked from checking items out. Upon pulling up his account, I see that he has a staggering 700 books checked out and $4,500 in fines.)

Professor: “I need to check out books for a presentation tomorrow! This system is corrupt!”

Me: “If there are more than $80 in fines, patrons cannot check out. But as long as you bring these overdue books in before [date] all the fines will be removed.”

Professor: “I can’t do that!” *pulls out checkbook* “Here’s what I’m going to do. I will write you a check for $4,500 so I can check out more books. Then, when I bring the overdue books in, you will pay me the $4,500 back with interest. Got it?!”

(I am at the local library, checking out Bram Stoker’s Dracula. A teenage girl barges up to the desk with the entire Twilight collection in her arms.)

Me: “Hey, I was checking—”

Girl: *completely ignoring me* “I would like to check these out!”

Librarian: “Please wait in line, miss.”

Girl: “Are you refusing me service?”

Librarian: “No, ma’am. How can I help you?”

Girl: “I really love these books! This is, like, the fifth time I’ve read them!”

Librarian: “Perhaps I could interest you in other vampire related materials?”

Girl: “Oh, my god! There’s more?”

(I’m really angry at this point and interject, since the girl is oblivious to the fact she cut in front of me.)

Me: “Yes, there are. However, no other book that has anything to do with vampires is as loaded with useless Mary Sues as that mountain of garbage you oh so adore.”

Girl: *completely clueless* “What do you mean? These books are great!”

Me: *points at cover of Dracula’* “This guy is a vampire.”

Girl: “No he’s not! He’s way too ugly!”

Me: “Yes, he is a vampire. Vampires, as they should be, are hideous predators that only seek to feed on humanity. The so called vegetarianism’ that is present in Twilight offers no sustenance to a vampire. Also, when they go out in the daylight, they burn, not take a bath in a vat of rhinestones.”

Librarian: “He does have a point there.”

Girl: “That’s disgusting! Who would want a vampire like that?”

(She storms out of the library with the Magnum Opus of snowflakes in her book bag.)

Me: “Hi, I need some help finding a book. It’s called Sacre Bleu by Christopher Moore. It’s a French word.”

Librarian: “Okay, let me see…”

(We spend a good half hour looking by title and then author. She can’t find it.)

Librarian: “Well, you can look in our sports section if you want a book about soccer.”

Me: “Eh? Why would I want a sports book?”

Librarian: “Didn’t you want a book called Soccer Blue?”

Me: *speechless*

Me: “Library. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello, this is the library. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Is this [bank]?”

Me: “No, this is [library].”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “This is [library]. I believe you have the wrong number.”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “You have the wrong number.”

Caller: “What number is this?”

Me: “It’s [number].”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “It’s [number].”

Caller: “I know. That’s the number I dialed.”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, but you either have the wrong number or dialed the wrong number. This is [library] not [bank].”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “This is [library] not [bank]. You have the wrong number.”

Caller: “So then, what’s the right number?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what [bank]’s number is.”

Caller: “Why not?”

Me: “Well, I don’t work at nor do business with that particular bank. I have no reason to need the number.”

Caller: “What?”

Me: “You have the wrong number and I don’t know what the right number is.”

(I hang up, but the phone immediately rings again. I’m pretty sure it’s the same person, so I let it go to voicemail. A few minutes later I check my messages, and, sure enough, there’s a message from the person I had just spoken with.)

Caller: “This is [name] and I’m having issues with my checking account. I called earlier, but the person who answered didn’t know what they were talking about!”