I worked at a library for years. We had an older lady who used to come in daily and kind of hang out, reading different things. She was always in a bad mood and hateful to all the staff because her “taxes pay your d*** salary”.

She would always look at a book we had about medications (it told what to mix, what not to mix, etc.) and she ordered me to get it for her one day (even though she was VERY familiar with where it was since she perused it daily).

I had to look it up as I wasn’t sure exactly where it was. She kept saying it was called “Good Pill, Bad Pill”, but I wasn’t finding anything under that title at all. I told her I would have to go to the section it was probably in and find it which, of course, pissed her off because I was incompetent and didn’t know exactly where this book was.

Patron: “I look at it every day! Why don’t you know where it is? I can’t believe my taxes pay your salary!”

I went and found the book — it was called “Best Pill, Worst Pill” — and took it to the queen who was sitting there moaning about how long it was taking.

Me: “It looks like you had the title wrong.”

This INFURIATED her!

Patron: *Yelling* “You know what I was talking about! You’re just being argumentative because you knew what I was talking about!”

I worked my a** off at that library and LOVED the job, but there were those few that thought that, because we were a library, we were there to wait on them hand and foot and that we had to take their hatefulness.

Related:
Well, Ain’t She Just A Pill

I was walking around town when a sudden downpour left me with little choice but to run for cover. I ducked into the nearest public building — a library — and stood between the outer doors and the inner set that led to the library itself. The head librarian came out almost immediately.

Librarian: “We don’t allow loitering.”

Me: “I’m just waiting for the rain to pass. I’ll stay right here.”

Librarian: “If you aren’t here to use the library, you must leave!”

She grabbed me by the arm, opened the outer door, and shoved me back into the rain. I stood there until she walked away and then went back inside, going through both sets of doors. She spun around, glaring at me.

Librarian: “I said leave!”

Me: “I need a book.”

Librarian: “What book?”

Me: “This one.”

I picked a random book off the returns cart, sat down, and began reading. It was some kind of advanced mathematical book, probably the most boring thing I’ve ever tried to read, but I sat there until the librarian walked away. I took the book with me into the bathroom and used the hand dryer to partially dry myself off. When I came back out, the librarian was watching me again, so I sat back down with my book and tried to look like I was reading.

Half an hour later, the rain stopped. I put the book on the returns cart and left. The librarian glared as I walked by, but I just smiled and thanked her for the book.

The public library I work at has a very large selection of cookbooks. It’s a popular section, even with the availability of recipes online. I’m shelving books when I hear this exchange between a dad and his very young son in the next aisle.

Dad: “All right, kiddo, if we’re gonna start learning to cook together, we need to find a book with recipes we want to try.”

Son: “How about this one?!”

Dad: “Why don’t we decide what we want for dinner first and then pick a book about that?”

Son: “Okay… This one!”

Dad: “Hmm… I don’t know. I’m pretty sure you just picked that because of the cover.”

Son: “But it looks so goooooooood!”

Dad: “It’s sushi. Do you want sushi for dinner?”

Son: “Yes! I want sushi!”

Dad: “So you know what sushi is?”

Son: “Umm… no?”

Dad: “It’s raw fish.”

The son is very quiet for several seconds, before whispering:

Son: “I don’t want sushi.”

I work in a library.

Patron: “I’ve been a patron of yours for a long time, and I love taking notes in the margins of books I particularly enjoy. The only problem is that, with the latest one, I’ve taken a few too many, and I really don’t want to have to erase them. Is there anything you can do about that?”

Me: *Pretty perplexed* “Umm, you really shouldn’t write anything in any of our books, please.”

Patron: “I know! It’s just pencil marks. I usually erase all of them before I return the book, but it’s just so many this time.”

Me: “No, you shouldn’t do it at all. It damages the paper!”

Patron: *Laughs* “Well, I learned something, then. So, what can you do about that?”

Me: “I’m gonna have to ask you to replace that book.”

Patron: “I can just give you any of my own books, right?”

Me: “No, it has to be the same title. You buy it new and bring it here. It also takes time and effort to get it ready to check out with our system, so I’m asking you again to please not damage any books you borrow from us.”

Patron: “All right, all right. There’s a library discount, though, right?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Patron: “If I buy a book for the library, the bookstore has to give me a discount.”

Me: “There is a discount, but it applies only to books the library purchases directly. If you damage one, you’ll need to pay the regular price.”

Patron: “What a bother!” 

You’re telling me, ma’am!

In grad school, I worked the circulation desk at the library attached to the law school. All of the full-time reference librarians had law degrees as well as library degrees but did not work professionally as lawyers. They were legally not allowed to give out legal advice. They could help patrons find legal resources but they could not interpret the law.

Frequently, community patrons would try to get free legal advice from the librarians — or would come in and pester students who also could not give legal advice — and would get frustrated when the librarians would refuse. The librarians understood that sometimes people were in a tough spot, but it was not worth opening themselves up to a potential lawsuit should the patron later say they acted on the librarian’s legal advice.

One day, as I was at the circulation desk, I could hear the reference librarian speaking with a patron on the phone. He was obviously asking for free legal help, and she kept trying to explain that she couldn’t do that. If he came into the library, she could help him find resources and he was welcome to do his own research, but she could not interpret the law for him.

After several minutes of this, she eventually stopped and quietly hung up the phone.

Librarian: “Oh, my!” 

She saw my confused look and explained what the caller had been saying.

Librarian: “He finally got so angry with me that he accused me of being a member of the Klan and hung up on me! But the joke’s on him; I’m Catholic and they hate me, too.”