The public bathrooms in our library have always been free to use, but when I first started working here, patrons had to ask to borrow the key.

A few years ago, we started a project to make the library more accessible for everyone. One of the results was the decision to keep the bathrooms unlocked and to make them all unisex. We used to have separate bathrooms for men and women, but since they only fit one person at a time, there didn’t seem to be much of a point.

All our public bathrooms are in the same place in the foyer. They are among the first things you see when you step inside. Our information desk is right opposite, so the staff has a good view of the entire foyer. As a side note, we have three public bathrooms: two are small single-stall bathrooms, and one is bigger and handicap accessible with a changing table.

We’ve had this setup for almost two years now, and I still have conversations like this at least once a week, often with the same patron.

Patron: “I need the key to the ladies’ room.”

Me: “We keep the bathrooms unlocked now; you can just go right ahead.”

Patron: “No, it’s locked.”

She points to the door of what used to be the ladies’ room.

Patron: “You need to unlock it for me.”

Me: “If it’s locked, it’s because it’s occupied. You’re welcome to use one of the other bathrooms; they both seem to be free right now.”

Patron: “But I need the ladies’ room!”

Me: “We don’t have a ladies’ room anymore; they are all unisex now. If you want to use that particular bathroom, I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait your turn.”

The patron sighed loudly, went to the occupied bathroom, tugged on the door handle a few times as if that would magically unlock it, and then left the building.

I work in a library. This same patron calls frequently and often makes requests just like this one.

Caller: “Yeah, can you give me the number for [mumbles] suhnnfnia?”

Me: “I’m sorry, the number for what?”

Caller: *Impatient* “Sahnnthia! Can you give me the number?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, suh…? Sah..?”

Caller: *Yelling* “SEHNNFVIA! I NEED THE NUMBER!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is. Is that a person? A store?”

Caller: “IT’S A RESTAURANT! I NEED THE NUMBER!”

Me: “I’m not familiar with that restaurant; can you spell it? Or can you tell me anything else about it?”

Caller: “NO. I DON’T KNOW! It’s a RESTAURANT! I need the NUMBER!”

Me: “I don’t know a restaurant by that name, so I can’t look that up.”

Caller: “Then ASK SOMEONE! It’s a RESTAURANT! It’s by [Other Restaurant].”

I check Google Maps.

Me: “By [Other Restaurant]? I see [Restaurant #3] near [Other Restaurant]? Or [Restaurant #4]?

Caller: “NO! It’s SNEHNNIA! It’s by [OTHER RESTAURANT]!”

Me: “I don’t see anything similar to that name by [Other Restaurant].”

Caller: “Oh, my God, why can’t you just… For God’s sake!” *Click*

I was behind the reference desk at my local library. My job was to put away reference material and retrieve requested reference material. As it is the digital age, and summer, I wasn’t needed much and was tearing through books at an amazing rate. It was, frankly put, a fantastic summer for me. Near the end of one shift, an older man came up to the desk.

Me: “Hello, sir, how can I help you?”

Patron: “What do you do here?”

Me: “I’m here to retrieve reference material like magazines and newspapers for people. Do you need one?”

Patron: “I’ve been watching you, and you’ve been reading for two hours straight.”

Me: “Oh, yes. Not many people need help at the moment, but I don’t mind; I love having the time to read!”

I thought we were having a pleasant conversation, but he seems to be getting huffy now.

Patron: “Well, nice work if you can get it, I guess. I want a job like yours, tax dollars going to pay for someone to sit around and do nothing but read…”

Me: “Sir, you can have my job, but you’d have to accept the pay.”

Patron: “What? Even if it’s not much, it’s not like you’re doing anything.”

Me: “Sir, I’m a volunteer. If you want my job, apply at the front desk.”

He gave me the stink eye and wandered off muttering about something or other. I finished my book.

Me: “You’re through to [Public Library]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Do you know stuff about science?”

Me: “I have some basic knowledge, but I know enough to help you choose the correct library resources to help you.”

Caller: “I think I have a black hole forming in my backyard.”

Pause.

Me: “And what makes you think that, ma’am?”

Caller: “There’s a black hole in my backyard, and I think it’s getting bigger.”

Me: “Well, I don’t know what that is, but I think it’s unlikely to be a black hole.”

Caller: “How would you know?”

Me: “Well, you and I, and quite possibly the whole planet, wouldn’t be here anymore if it really was a black hole.”

Caller: “Oh, that’s a relief.”

Silence.

Me: “Was there anything else I could help you with, ma’am?”

Caller: “Not right now. I’m going to go find out what the black hole is.”

Me: “Good luck!”

We end the call and I go back to my duties. Five minutes later, the phone rings, and I answer.

Caller: “It was my neighbor’s goats!”

We are sometimes asked to request a book from the British Library. These come with a fee of about £18, and fines can get quite high for a late return because the books are not from our own catalogue.

From years of experience, I know that these books tend to be for people’s special interests and tend to be of an academic nature. It’s important to note that the bad jokes have been honed by a decade of dealing with fellow bookworms and bibliophiles.

I’m sitting at the issue desk with my colleague, and a woman approaches my side of the desk. She is a tall, elegantly dressed woman I estimate to be in her early sixties. I’m a woman in my early thirties and I’ve been here for a decade.

Patron: “I’m here to pick up the British Library book on [subject].”

Me: “Here you go.”

I check the title and flip through the pages to find our documents, so I get a quick peek at the subject. It’s probably very interesting for a specific few!

Me: “That will be £18, please. When you return the book, please bring it to the desk so we can process it back to the library. The renewal and late return fees are listed in the cover.”

Patron: “Thank you… What are the late fees?”

BAD JOKE INCOMING!

Me: “Oh, they’re pretty steep. Librarians turn up and say ‘Shhh!’ at you.”

Patron: “Oh!” 

I proceed to handle another small inquiry for this patron without any problems when she asks my name.

Me: “It’s [My Name]… at least that’s the one the librarians gave me!” *Wink*

Patron: *Smiling* “Oh, it’s all very KGB!”

Me: “Ha! Yes! Here you go! Enjoy your book!”

Patron: “This is an academic book!”

At this point, she turns to leave, and then she does a 180 to come back and say:

Patron: “I have a Ph.D.”

All I can really do is nod and smile. She leaves. After a moment, I turn to my colleague and say:

Me: “I’m suddenly getting the feeling that interaction didn’t go as well as it felt at the time.”

My colleague shrugs and says she thought the comment about having a Ph.D. was a bit odd, but perhaps she was just nervous?

About two more minutes pass and the woman is back at the desk. This time she’s standing behind her husband with her hand clasped defensively to her chest.

Patron’s Husband: “You threatened my wife!”

Me: “I… um…” *Looks at the woman* “I am so sorry. I’m not sure I understand?”

Patron’s Husband: “You said the librarians would kill her!”

Me: “Oh, gosh, no! No, I was making a bad joke about librarians saying ‘shush’ being scary.” *To the patron* “I’m very sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to. I don’t think that joke was very funny in retrospect.”

Patron’s Husband: “Well, that’s okay.” *Turns to his wife*

Patron: “Oh… yes. That’s okay.”

Patron’s Husband: “You really need some more customer service training.”

Me: “I’ll consider this a lesson.”

Patron’s Husband: “Thank you.”

They both said goodbye and left.

I heard no more about this interaction. The next time I saw this patron, she was very friendly. I was later informed that she got her Ph.D. at age sixty, which is nice to know. I was also told that she’s often at our archive centre badgering other researchers about using pens near the books.

I often wonder how many times that long-suffering husband has had conversations like this with customer service people on behalf of his wife.

I still make the joke about the librarians. It always goes down as dorkily as you’d expect with other bookworms.