I work as a librarian for a university. The university recently completed the installation of a number of new wireless access points all over campus before the beginning of the new semester.

I’m manning the front desk when I take a phone call.

Me: “[Library], how can I help you?”

Patron: “I’m calling about the wireless boxes.”

It takes me a couple of seconds to realize what the caller is talking about.

Me: “Ah, do you mean the new wireless access points that were just installed across campus?”

Patron: “Yes.”

I wait for a moment, but the caller does not continue.

Me: “What would you like to know about them?”

Patron: “How much are they?”

I am extremely confused.

We actually have had an issue where folks who search for the university itself on search engines often call the first number they see. For a few years, for whatever reason, this number has been the number for our library as opposed to a central administrative body. As a result, we have many callers reaching out to us by mistake. This, however, was a first.

Unfortunately, in the moment, my brain is unable to think of a good way to articulate a response, and I respond quite poorly.

Me: “Ma’am… when you called this phone number, what type of institution did you think you were reaching?”

Patron: “A library?”

I sputter for a moment.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe the access points are for sale.”

Patron: “Oh.”

Me: “I apologize for the confusion. The university recent—”

Patron: *Click*

Is… is it me?

My university offers a service where you can rent laptops for a few days. I’m currently having some tech issues and am making use of this service in the meantime.

It’s 7:00 pm on a Monday, only an hour before the front desk at our library closes when I head in to renew my rental. Last night was very long for me, and I didn’t get back to my apartment until around 7:00 am. Then, I had a major exam at midday, so I wasn’t able to get any sleep until the afternoon.

I know I’ve walked in looking like I’ve just rolled out of bed because, well, that’s exactly what I did.

Me: “Hi. Can I renew my laptop rental, please?”

The librarian at the desk looks at me and tsks but starts the process.

Librarian: *In a very condescending tone* “You know, you students need to pull yourselves together. You won’t survive a week in the real world sleeping in until the evening.”

I just stare at her for a moment, just completely stupefied at her comment, before I scowl at her.

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll just make sure to tell my friend to learn to schedule their unplanned emergency room visits better in the future, then.”

She blanched and blessedly kept her mouth shut for the rest of the process. For the record, my friend is okay!

I am in the main reading room of my local library doing research. As usual, the room had quite a few homeless people, all mostly keeping to themselves and enjoying the air conditioning as it’s brutally hot outside.

There are several rows of rectangular tables, each with six chairs, giving folks plenty of room to spread out. Suddenly I hear this PLOP. An armload of magazines slams down on the table across from me. A huffy-looking woman sits down and only then says:

Patron: “Let me share this table with you; I don’t want to sit near homeless people.”

She is not trying to be tactful at all, nor quiet. Several occupied tables are in earshot. She sits there for about twenty minutes and never… shuts…up. She has the magazines (cooking magazines) strewn all over the table. She wants to talk about recipes. She wants to profess her love for some grocery store she used to visit back home. She wants to talk about what a nasty city this is. And she really wants to talk about:

Patron: “This library is being ruined by vagrants and bums and they should not be allowed inside!”

I was doing my best to just “mmhmm” and “ah” instead of actually answering her, hoping she would finally shut up, but my simmering dislike of her went up to boiling hatred when she started tearing recipes out of the magazines. I finally looked her right in the eye:

Me: “Stop it!”

She starts to sputter.

Me: “Just take pictures with your phone.”

She vibrates in place for about twenty seconds and then decides my behavior is too offensive to endure, so she slams her stuff together – leaving the half-destroyed magazines in a messy pile[ and does the Flounce’n’Bounce.

As she’s walking away, I see a notebook she left on the table. I think about it for a minute, then pick it up, run after her and give it to her.

Me: *Very saccharine sweet.* “You forgot this!”

She looks at it, spurts out a “hmph!” and continues flouncing.

Parking in this library is in a giant garage about a block and a half away, and library patrons can park there for three hours free with a validation slip from the library – you hand them your ticket at the reference desk and they staple the slip to it.

No slip? You paid the hourly rate indicated by your time-punched ticket. It was like $2.50 an hour. No ticket? You paid the DAILY rate, which is about $20.When I picked this woman’s notebook up, I could see the little ticket sticking out of the top with the slip stapled to it. When I handed her notebook I had intended to give her the ticket as well, but with that final ‘hmph!’… well, golly gosh. Where did that ticket go?

Shame. Hope you had a twenty in that giant purse, lady.

I’m a librarian. I’ve just received a large order of books, but something’s not right. I call the publisher.

Me: “Hi, I ordered a bunch of books from you and paid for processing. However, all the bar codes and spine labels came in an envelope, instead of already attached to the books, which I paid for.”

Representative: “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Me: “So, can I get a credit for the $5 I paid to have them come already attached?”

Representative: “We can’t offer you credit. If you like, we can send you a mailing label, you can box them back up and ship them to us, and we’ll stick the labels on and return them to you.”

Me: “You’d rather pay like fifty dollars in postage and delay my order for over a week, rather than give me a five-dollar credit?”

Representative: “Um… Yeah… We’ll credit you.”

My daughter and I are at an event that has brought in horses dressed up as unicorns. We are waiting our turn in line when I overhear a mom talking to her child.

Children: *Crying* “I don’t want to see the unicorns!”

Mom: “Honey, it’s okay! Remember unicorns are make-believe? It’s not an actual unicorn. It’s just a cow dressed up as one.”