Friday, November 13, 2009

Miss Information is annoyed by generosity

One of Miss Information's least favourite patrons--the cranky actress--came into the library recently. She wanted a specific play. She needed it for an audition later that day. She knew it was in the library because a couple of months ago, she had donated her own copy. Now she wanted it back.

Miss Information looked in the catalogue but of course, the library had not kept the book. The woman was incensed. She lived across the street. She gave it to the library because she had no room at her house and she knew she just pop over and get it any time she wanted.

Miss Information thinks that the organization the woman needed was called a "storage facility". Common mistake. Libraries, though, are completely different. They are not a place to come when you run out of bookshelves. Here books come and books go. Tragically, this book had gone.

The woman got even more angry. She'd had enough of this library. She's never donating another book. Not ever.

Noooooooo!!! Not that!!!!!

Miss Information is not going to lose any sleep over that threat. In fact, it has cheered her up enormously.

Here's a big secret about the library. The library hates donations. Staff members are trained to smile when they take your moth-ball smelling, pink-highlighted, mouldy, water damaged, yellowed books but in most cases you should have just thrown them into the recycle bin and save yourself the trip to the library. So, Cranky Actress, Miss Information hopes you and your coffee stained old books will be happy together.

Saturday, November 07, 2009

Miss Information is a terrible judge of character

It wasn't the best week at work. Miss Information was annoyed by the number of coworkers with "flu-like symptoms" and also the usual lack of communication in the library. E-mail people! Jeez. How hard is it to send e-mail explaining stuff?

So, Miss Information was burned out and cranky on Thursday evening when a fellow came to the desk. He was scruffy in an "I'm an artist" not an "I'm a serial killer" kind of way. He'd run out of time on the computer and the file he thought he saved was gone. He didn't seem too upset about this. Looking back, this should have been a clue. He and Miss Information had a pleasant chat about better ways to save files and monitor your computer time. He was nice. He seemed normal.

Miss Information signed him up for more computer time and got back to her stamping and shushing duties. About two minutes had passed when the man, the same normalish man stormed past the desk complaining bitterly about how the media and the president were crapping all over him. They were always doing that.

Miss Information's crazy-dar must be on the fritz.