You're not funny, and I'm not a mind reader! (library mini-rant)

To the high school kids on campus tours coming through the library:

“Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep!” you say, as you walk through the security gate. Do you actually think that is even in the slightest form amusing? Do you really think you’re even the slightest bit orginal or funny? “Haha, I’m gonna make a sound like the alarm going off! It’ll be cool!” You’re a dipshit. I’ve been here for forty minutes so far today and you’re about the seventh person to do that. One: You don’t even remotely sound a damn thing like the actual alarm. If you wanted to make it realistic, I’d have to kick you in the balls to make your voice go that high. You wanna make it realistic? Two: You’re in the fucking library. Shut up and listen to your poor tour guide extol the virtues of this freaking gorgeous wonderful building. Just shut up! And once again, you are not fucking funny. I swear, the next time one of those punks does it, I’m gonna play dumb and call the campus police to tackle his stupid ass.
I hate campus visitation days. (And god, I sound so old… I’m only 20 and I’m turning into a bitchy old librarian!)

And to my fellow college students, I cannot read your mind. If you come up and stand in front of the counter and stare at me, I am not going to know what you want. A guy came in yesterday who apparently had lost his ID card and needed to get it from our lost and found. He stood there and looked at me for a minute, while I looked back, raised my eyebrows, finally said, “Can I help you?” He responds by saying his name. Um… that’s nice. Finally informs me that he lost his ID. How was I supposed to know that, dumbass?! Sorry, my telepathetic powers must be on the fritz. And it’s also rather rude to stand at the desk and rummage in your backpack for five minutes, while I sit there waiting to help you, without acknowledging my existence. A few simple words, “I need some articles on reserve for so-and-so, I’ve got the paper that says which ones in here somewhere…” would suffice, to save us both time, because then I can go find the files while you’re digging for your list. Plus it’s just courteous to acknowledge my presence, dammit.

::sigh:: I love my job, really, I just hate some of my patrons.

(Yes, this is lame and weak and I’m whiny. I just… gah, stupid high school kids.)

I hear you. I remember once while I was in a chemistry practical, we had a tour group walk through and some of the kids were playing with the gas valves on the unoccupied work stations. I walk over and cut them back off, and start yelling at the kids, and then their teacher comes up. She’s bitching at me, I’m bitching at her, and my professor throws the whole damn lot of them out of the class. Aparently, the school that they come from have the same gas fixtures on their desks, but all are inactive and the kids play with them anyway. And somehow, to their teacher, that made it acceptable to actually open three live gas lines in the lab (mind you, we had burners going all over the place. We were lucky there wasn’t a mishap.) Stupid high school students. Stupid teachers. Why won’t they all drop out and leave us to study in peace?

Actually, it’s standard etiquette to wait until a clerk asks, “May I help you?” before starting asking for help. You can’t always tell if the clerk is busy or not.

But, yeah, we don’t do mind-reading. (Or time-travel, either. Or magic, with some few exceptions…)


I’ll second that. I find it highly rude when the person behind the counter just stares at me.

I agree with the rest though.

You are telepathic however :slight_smile:

Also, when requesting a particular book, it helps if you give me the correct title for the book you’re looking for. Don’t tell me you want Dancing in Cedar Rapids when what you’re really looking for is Slow Waltz in Cedar Bend.

(Yes, this is a true story.)

Well, I don’t know the title. It has a blue cover, and it’s a love story. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT BOOK I’M TALKING ABOUT? ARE YOU STUPID?

Also, don’t describe books by their color. Asking for the “big red book on the top shelf” is going to result in disappointment.

Plus, you didn’t turn in the books. No, you didn’t. They’re not checked in. They’re not on the shelf. They’re not in the book drop, and we even had someone climb into the chute to look. You didn’t turn them in, and we can’t take it on your word that you did.

And your kid DID write in the book. He wrote his NAME in it in inch-high green crayon letters. The clerk’s suggesting that he did so is not the greatest leap of logic ever. And the fact that you are (and I quote) “middle class” and “Christian” has nothing to do with the writing in the book. Pay up, and be glad we aren’t charging you for the entire thing, but rather charging by the page.