I used to work a part-time job in a library with a not-so-nice boss. She was extremely demanding, my wages were ridiculously low, and the work was extremely hard since the library had a skeleton crew and we were barely enough to run the library. Just a few months after I started working there, I quit for a full-time job.

One of my friends came to know of it thanks to social media. She asked me some questions about it, and I didn’t lie; I told her it was pretty awful. Since she really needed a job, she applied. I gave her information about the dress code, what she needed to know, the tasks, and so on. She got an interview very early in the morning (before sunrise in January).

I offered to coach her in the morning before the interview. However, when she arrived, she was on the verge of tears.

My awful boss had called her while she was on the train to tell her not to bother coming for the interview. 

I invited her home for a coffee. I told her about my worst days there, what my boss had asked me to do, the back-breaking tasks, the lack of training on the tasks, and my extremely low salary (from which my boss once deducted around 10% for a mistake I made, which is extremely illegal in Belgium), even though my meager wage was barely enough for me to live. I spared no details.

I tried my best to lift her mood. Since I had followed a job-searching training course after I left college, I gave her my notes. We also pimped up her CV. When she came home, she was in a much better mood.

She found a full-time job in a toy library closer to her place. I was much happier at my new job.

I work in a smaller branch library. My manager is off, so I get to deal with the problem customers today.

We have a policy (which is standard in most places) about bicycles in the building: none are allowed in the library, nor are they allowed in the vestibule. (We have customers with wheelchairs who need the space to get in).

Today, of course, a woman comes in with a large mountain bike. I go speak to her, and eventually, I convince her to leave with it. She seems a little odd, but I figure it is over.

NEVER ASSUME IT’S OVER.

Several hours later, I am working in the backroom.

Coworker: “Someone out front is looking for you.”

I go out to the desk and am immediately confronted by an irate man.

Man: *Screaming* “You made my wife cry when you asked her to leave with her bike!”

Me: “Yes, that is the rule, and we follow the rules as posted.”

I show him the posting, which is on a wall.

Man: “That isn’t on the door!”

Me: “I can offer you the number to our main office, as I do not control what is etched into the glass doors.”

He leaves.

I tell my boss about this the next day. 

Boss: “You made her cry because she didn’t like the rule? Good. She needs to toughen up.”

I had a very bizarre conversation with a patron at our library today. She is a regular and always has interesting takes on things. We’ve just had a big event, and the library has been packed with people all day, most of them children. As a result, the cloakroom is overflowing, and there’s been some irritation. As we’re about to close for the day, this regular patron comes up to me.

Patron: “I just had the perfect idea; I’m surprised you haven’t thought of it already.”

Me: “Okay? Let’s hear it and we’ll see what we can do.”

The patron points to a space in the back of the library near where we have our offices.

Patron: “What if you put up a lot of hangers on the wall over there, and people can hang their jackets and put baby carriages and bags and stuff away back there? They’ll be out of the way, and there’ll be so much more space in the lobby!”

Me: “That is a good idea. Unfortunately, we’re not allowed to put anything back there at all because of the fire escape. If we block that door, the fire department will be breathing down our necks.”

Patron: “Oh, you shouldn’t have to listen to the fire department. It’s not like there’s ever going to be a fire here. Besides, why do you need a fire escape back there? Everyone will use the one up front.”

Me: “Depends on where the fire is. Also, it’s the closest one to our staff area and offices.”

Patron: “Staff needs their own fire escape? If there’s a fire, aren’t you supposed to stay behind and carry all the books out?”

Me: “I assure you, if there’s a fire, the books would be the least of our concerns. The policy is to always save lives first. We can buy new books.”

Patron: “But… but… that’s taxpayer money!“

Related:
Because Retail Workers Aren’t Human, Part 2
Because Retail Workers Aren’t Human

I was working the desk at my small-town library when a man (here called Small-Town/Big Head) came in. I’d worked there for a few years and knew most of our patrons by name, but I’d never seen this man before.

Me: “Hi, can I help you?”

ST/BH: “Is [Library Director] here?”

Me: “No, she’s not in today. How can I help you?”

ST/BH: “Well, my name is [ST/BH], and I’m a member of the [Small Town] Council, so that makes me your boss. Can you tell [Library Director] that I came in?”

Me: *Very politely* “Nice to meet you, [ST/BH]. My name is [My Name]. I’m a resident of [Small Town], and I vote, so that might make me your boss. But I’ll be sure to tell [Library Director] that you stopped by.”

ST/BH: “Hmmph!”

He turned around and left.

A long time later, I was talking to our mayor and told him about this exchange. He said that the council members had absolutely no authority over the employees in any way.

A patron comes up to the reference desk holding a copy of “Romeo & Juliet”. It’s a school version with sections that help any student studying the text for school.

Patron: “This book is disgusting! It’s got underaged sex and murder in it!”

Me: “Well, yes, the book isn’t best for the very young, but when studied in school and taken in the historical context, it’s—”

Patron: “Do you have, like, the Disney version or something?”

Me: “The… what version?”

Patron: “The Disney version. Like, do they sing and have the animals and stuff?”

Me: “Uh, no, as far as I’m aware there isn’t a Disney movie based on Romeo & Juliet.”

Patron: “Well, this is not going to be going anywhere near my child! I’ll just have to tell the school. You’d think they would have more appropriate material for high school seniors!”

So, she thinks a Disney musical is appropriate for someone either eighteen or just about to be, but not the cautionary tale of running off with someone you just met and getting married?