I guess I should follow up that last post with some more stories about my encounters with the weird old men of the library. I actually lied, there was another time a guy not too much older than me was flirting with me and it was pretty awesome, until he told me he was moving to the other side of the world in a week. Just my luck. So, where was I? Maybe now is a good time to tell the story of Van Halen Guy.
Van Halen Guy got his name because he loves the Bee Gees. That was a joke. He actually really loves Abba. That was another joke. I could do this all night. He got his name because one night, when he was watching videos on YouTube, he loudly pronounced "Man, Hendrix only wished he could play like that. Heh. Eddie Van Halen could shit all over him!" I do know his real name, but you shall only know him as Van Halen Guy.
He soon decided that we should be friends, even though he is in his early fifties, and every time he saw me would tell me every kind of guitar he owns, and his amplifiers, and how he plays every day because he loves it so much. I don't really know a lot about guitars and gear and all that, but I always acted impressed anyway. Once he overheard me say that I was in a band though, and that really got things going. Then he wanted to be BFFs. He wanted to hear the CD. He wanted to give me advice. And he still wanted to tell me about all of his guitars.
VHG likes to google his name plus "best guitar player in the world" and show me all the hits. When his five year old son told me he wanted to marry me, VHG said "What did you do to my boy?!?" (The answer, of course, is nothing, because this was the first time I even met the kid).
VHG asked if he could take me out to dinner once. The next time he saw me, he had flowers for me. The next time after that, he said he only meant it as a friendly gesture and that he just wants to get to know me better. Then last week, he told me that he was just waiting for me to break up with my boyfriend so he can "move right in" on me. Followed up with "You think I'm joking! I'm not!" Another shelver was there, right on the other side of the shelf, and he overheard the whole thing. As VHG left, he said to that guy "She's a great girl, isn't she?"
Honestly, he is such a character, and while all of this might seem a little on the creepy side, he is one of my favorite people to ever come in the library. Sure, he got pulled aside by the cops once, when the library director found out he threatened another patron who was annoying him. But he also tells me how funny I am and that he's glad he knows me. He is one of the few people who comes in who enjoys talking to me and always says goodbye to me loudly, so everyone else can hear. It's sort of sweet, in a weird kind of way.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Philandering Part 1
I get hit on while I'm working. A LOT. I'm not entirely sure why. Probably because I'm young, especially compared with my co-workers. I even got a marriage proposal once, but that's a whole different story. I also think it probably has to do with the fact that I've been working there for years, and I've become a familiar face to many of the patrons. When I first started working there I was young and angry and didn't want to talk to anyone, especially not creepy men. Now, I've grown tolerant of them, and even enjoy my conversations with them. Sometimes.
I think the first time I got asked out was by a guy who was close to my age, and I thought he was cute so I agreed. He asked me for the Led Zeppelin book Hammer of the Gods so I immediately thought he was awesome, and then he sort of followed me around for a while before asking me for my number and saying we should hang out sometime. It didn't work out with dating, but we're really good friends to this day and still hang out pretty often. Not bad for a first time, right?
The second time, not so much. Again, the guy was close to my age but he annoyed me right off the bat. He came in and was arguing with the librarian behind the counter about a fifty cent fine. Loudly. For a long time. It's fifty cents! Just pay it! Stop this nonsense and PAY THE FINE YOU OWE BECAUSE YOU RETURNED YOUR BOOKS LATE. Ahem. So, I walked back to put things away in non-fiction and after he was done arguing like an idiot, he followed me back there and pretended to be looking for books on philosophy, right where I was shelving, of course. I could tell he had no interest in philosophy except for the fact that I was in that section. He started talking to me and I was polite, like a good employee, and he asked me out and I had to say no, not only because he was being such a creep about his fine, but there was definitely something off about him, like in a serial killer kind of way. This guy didn't get the hint though. I got a phone call a few days later from the library on one of my days off saying that someone had brought me flowers and they would be in the staff room until I was able to come get them. I was mystified. I thought it had to be one of my friends trying to embarrass me or something. Imagine my surprise when I saw that guy's name on the tag. Along with his phone number. Ewww. Needless to say, I never called him, and luckily he hasn't come in since then.
Now, there was a guy who was volunteering at the library. That's nice, isn't it? Volunteers are pretty awesome. I thought he was nice, until I started to get those weird vibes from him. He has to be in his late forties, early fifties. One time, he asked me if I had taken my lunch break yet, because he was wondering if I wanted to share a pizza with him. I thought maybe he was just being nice, but it still seemed a little weird. He had been volunteering for a few weeks, and my co-workers that I had been working with for years had never even asked me to share a pizza with them. Probably because they know I don't eat cheese, but that's beside the point. Then, the day came where he wandered over where I was putting away large print books. This is the conversation, along with a translation of what I imagine we were both actually saying:
"So, you know, I was wondering if maybe we could go out together sometime." (I know this is totally creepy to be asking out a girl who is half my age, but what the hell??)
"What, you mean like a date?" (I know that's what you mean, but I really hope I'm wrong.)
"Well, you know, I mean, it wouldn't have to be like that, but, well, you know..." (YES I WANT TO TAKE YOU ON A DATE PLEEEEEASE)
"Oh, well, I uh, I have a boyfriend, so you know, I don't think that would really be a good idea, you know." (Even if I didn't have a boyfriend, I would have lied and said I did so you leave me alone you strange person)
"Yeah, I kinda figured you did, but I wanted to ask anyway. Here's my phone number, in case you change your mind and, you know, you just want to talk sometime or something." (I am totally relentless and desperate, please call me sometime, pleeeeease)
I felt bad so I called him later and decided he's actually not so bad, and now we're happily married.
HAHAHAHA JUST KIDDING. I never called him, but he comes in from time to time and asks if I still have a boyfriend. Yes, he really is that relentless.
I think the first time I got asked out was by a guy who was close to my age, and I thought he was cute so I agreed. He asked me for the Led Zeppelin book Hammer of the Gods so I immediately thought he was awesome, and then he sort of followed me around for a while before asking me for my number and saying we should hang out sometime. It didn't work out with dating, but we're really good friends to this day and still hang out pretty often. Not bad for a first time, right?
The second time, not so much. Again, the guy was close to my age but he annoyed me right off the bat. He came in and was arguing with the librarian behind the counter about a fifty cent fine. Loudly. For a long time. It's fifty cents! Just pay it! Stop this nonsense and PAY THE FINE YOU OWE BECAUSE YOU RETURNED YOUR BOOKS LATE. Ahem. So, I walked back to put things away in non-fiction and after he was done arguing like an idiot, he followed me back there and pretended to be looking for books on philosophy, right where I was shelving, of course. I could tell he had no interest in philosophy except for the fact that I was in that section. He started talking to me and I was polite, like a good employee, and he asked me out and I had to say no, not only because he was being such a creep about his fine, but there was definitely something off about him, like in a serial killer kind of way. This guy didn't get the hint though. I got a phone call a few days later from the library on one of my days off saying that someone had brought me flowers and they would be in the staff room until I was able to come get them. I was mystified. I thought it had to be one of my friends trying to embarrass me or something. Imagine my surprise when I saw that guy's name on the tag. Along with his phone number. Ewww. Needless to say, I never called him, and luckily he hasn't come in since then.
Now, there was a guy who was volunteering at the library. That's nice, isn't it? Volunteers are pretty awesome. I thought he was nice, until I started to get those weird vibes from him. He has to be in his late forties, early fifties. One time, he asked me if I had taken my lunch break yet, because he was wondering if I wanted to share a pizza with him. I thought maybe he was just being nice, but it still seemed a little weird. He had been volunteering for a few weeks, and my co-workers that I had been working with for years had never even asked me to share a pizza with them. Probably because they know I don't eat cheese, but that's beside the point. Then, the day came where he wandered over where I was putting away large print books. This is the conversation, along with a translation of what I imagine we were both actually saying:
"So, you know, I was wondering if maybe we could go out together sometime." (I know this is totally creepy to be asking out a girl who is half my age, but what the hell??)
"What, you mean like a date?" (I know that's what you mean, but I really hope I'm wrong.)
"Well, you know, I mean, it wouldn't have to be like that, but, well, you know..." (YES I WANT TO TAKE YOU ON A DATE PLEEEEEASE)
"Oh, well, I uh, I have a boyfriend, so you know, I don't think that would really be a good idea, you know." (Even if I didn't have a boyfriend, I would have lied and said I did so you leave me alone you strange person)
"Yeah, I kinda figured you did, but I wanted to ask anyway. Here's my phone number, in case you change your mind and, you know, you just want to talk sometime or something." (I am totally relentless and desperate, please call me sometime, pleeeeease)
I felt bad so I called him later and decided he's actually not so bad, and now we're happily married.
HAHAHAHA JUST KIDDING. I never called him, but he comes in from time to time and asks if I still have a boyfriend. Yes, he really is that relentless.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Visitation Rights
As I’m sure you can imagine, working in a library can get very, VERY dull. Not that I don’t like it there, but sometimes I'll be in the non-fiction books shelf reading, and all of a sudden I'll realize it's been hours since I've seen another human being. Truthfully, it’s kind of nice when that happens, because sometimes I get a non-stop deluge of people wanting to know where juvenile non-fiction or young adult novels are, or how to use a computer, or what have you, and it gets to the point where I’m ready to punch the next person to ask me anything. But it does get dull and sometimes I start to space out a little bit and it can be kind of depressing. Needless to say, I enjoy it when a friend comes in to visit me now and then. It rarely happens though, and the only friend I see on a regular basis is a guy that I met from working there. It can get tricky though, because technically I don’t think I’m not allowed to have visitors, but I know that if I stand around talking for an hour, I’m going to get in trouble. Anyway, there are certain visits that I will always remember. Like the time a good friend of mine came in to visit me. We were standing there talking, but he didn’t want to get me in trouble, so he kept a lookout for anyone walking by. No one did for a long time, and none of the librarians came back at all, but at one point a lady came past and he stopped mid-sentence and said “So yeah, Stephen King...yeah.” And watched until she had gotten out of earshot and then kept talking. It was hilarious.
Then there was the time my best friend came in and actually helped me shift books for a long time so that we could talk and I would still be working. I love her.
And then there was the time that my old neighbor came in and was looking at movies while I put them away. He’s an aging hippie, a really cool guy, but sometimes he says things that make you wonder just how much pot he smoked over the years. An old man who comes in almost every day came over to look at the movies I had on my cart while my neighbor was still standing there. Now, at the time, I was dating a guy who was kind of a jerk. I don’t need to go into details here. But at that precise moment, with the nice old man standing right there, my neighbor decided it would be a good time to ask me “Hey, you’re not still fucking around with that douchebag are you?”
There's really no right response to that. I looked at the old man and wondered if I should apologize, then decided to just laugh it off and walk away. It's times like that when I wish for the dullness of being all alone in the back. At least no one can embarrass me there.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Poo and Pervs
One of my jobs, besides putting things away, is to clean up at the end of the day. This entails pushing chairs in, putting away the puppets in the kids room, picking up piles of books that people have left out, and, of course, checking the bathrooms. It's become second nature to me now, but when I first started working there I was TERRIFIED of the men's room. Why? Good question. I think it mainly had to do with the fact that, as a lady, I am used to stalls that are all-encompassing, but in the men's room you never know what you might see.
Aside from that, you would probably be suprised at how many times I have encountered poo that someone left behind in he toilet (this goes for the ladies too, I'm not just talking about the men still). But you always remember your first time. I stood there for a second just staring at it, wondering where they keep the plunger, and if this was also in my job description. Luckily, the one librarian's husband was there that night and he took care of it for me so I didn't have to.
However, I have come to the conclusion that walking in on someone else's poo in the toilet is far better than some of the people themselves. I learned this lesson early on, because the first poo incident occurred right after the pervy guy incident. This older fellow stood RIGHT BEHIND ME while I was bending over to shelve some books. He then proceeded to pull out a book called "Girls and Sex" and flipped through it, as though it might be something he would be interested in reading.
You can't just flush a guy like that down the toilet.
Aside from that, you would probably be suprised at how many times I have encountered poo that someone left behind in he toilet (this goes for the ladies too, I'm not just talking about the men still). But you always remember your first time. I stood there for a second just staring at it, wondering where they keep the plunger, and if this was also in my job description. Luckily, the one librarian's husband was there that night and he took care of it for me so I didn't have to.
However, I have come to the conclusion that walking in on someone else's poo in the toilet is far better than some of the people themselves. I learned this lesson early on, because the first poo incident occurred right after the pervy guy incident. This older fellow stood RIGHT BEHIND ME while I was bending over to shelve some books. He then proceeded to pull out a book called "Girls and Sex" and flipped through it, as though it might be something he would be interested in reading.
You can't just flush a guy like that down the toilet.
Friday, December 10, 2010
"Put that back where you found it!!"
I guess the point of this blog is to share the stories about the other librarians I work with, weird things that happen to me at work, but mostly just about the people who come into the library I work at. Something I hear at least once every day that I'm there: "Put that back where you found it!"
The usual scenario: a mom comes in with one or two kids. They are SO EXCITED to be in the library, picking out books or movies. Usually movies. They get so excited, in fact, that they pull everything that looks remotely interesting off the shelf.
"Mom! Can I get this movie? And this one? And this one? Mom? Mom!"
"You can only have one movie. Pick one of those."
"OK...I want this one!"
"Put that other one back where you found it."
Really mom? Can't YOU put it back? Do you really think your five year old remembers where he picked that movie out from? I'm sure you have a better grasp of the alphabet and organization than he does. Why do you insist on telling your child to put the movie back? Nine times out of ten (ok, closer to ten times out of ten, I was just trying to be nice) the kid puts it back in the completely wrong spot. My favorite: when I just finished organizing the entire section, and now everything just got shoved back in the wrong place.
I love my job. I really, really do.
The usual scenario: a mom comes in with one or two kids. They are SO EXCITED to be in the library, picking out books or movies. Usually movies. They get so excited, in fact, that they pull everything that looks remotely interesting off the shelf.
"Mom! Can I get this movie? And this one? And this one? Mom? Mom!"
"You can only have one movie. Pick one of those."
"OK...I want this one!"
"Put that other one back where you found it."
Really mom? Can't YOU put it back? Do you really think your five year old remembers where he picked that movie out from? I'm sure you have a better grasp of the alphabet and organization than he does. Why do you insist on telling your child to put the movie back? Nine times out of ten (ok, closer to ten times out of ten, I was just trying to be nice) the kid puts it back in the completely wrong spot. My favorite: when I just finished organizing the entire section, and now everything just got shoved back in the wrong place.
I love my job. I really, really do.
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