Captain Obvious

It's time for more email snark. Today's email comes from a patron who is both impatient and lazy. Neither is something to be proud of. However, combined, I imagine they make life unbearable. Without further ado:

"In that past month or so, I've been having some difficulty getting the holds I've placed for books on the library website. It seems most of the books are coming from the main library. The ------- branch is closer, so I always request pickup there. The turn-around time used to be 1-2 days, but I have books that I've placed holds on (with no waiting) and It has been 7 days on one and 4 and counting on several others. Please look into this situation and help me understand what the delay might be. Thank you."

Dexter's reply:

"I think the delay stems from you not getting up off your ass to come get them yourself. Thank you and have a nice day!"

Was it the one armed man?

The library I work for has a wonderful service in which you can ask librarians questions via email. We always reply within 48 hours, even if it is to simply say "We need more time on this one."

My absolute favorite part of this service is the entertainment that it provides. Today I'm going to share the fun with you. The following is an email received this afternoon. Names and identifying locations have been changed to protect both the stupid and the snarky.

"Hi,
Last week I returned a CD case to the ****** Branch,
and was informed by them that the CD was not in the
case. They stated that the case would be sent back to
Main library and when I returned the CD it would clear
my account. On the 12th of April I returned the CD to
the (same) Branch and was told that the case had been
sent and my account was charged $14.95 for the missing
CD. They would send the CD and my account cleared.
On the 17th of April I called the Main Library and
spoke to someone who stated they would look for the CD
as it showed the account was still being charged. I
called the (same) Branch and was told that 'YES THE CD
HAD BEEN RETURNED.'
I was told by the person at the Main Library that
sometimes things get put aside. Could this CD that I
RETURNED be found and credited to my account. I can
not use my account, pick up waiting materials or use
my account. I have always paid my fine when it was my
error, THIS IS NOT MY ERROR."

Oh, reeeeeaaaaaallly? Not your error, huh? Maybe the two of us have definitions of the word. Let's consult a dictionary and break it down, shall we?

Er.ror (noun)-

1.	a deviation from accuracy or correctness; a mistake, as in action or speech. As in: not returning the item you checked out whole and on time.

2.

belief in something untrue; the holding of mistaken opinions. As in: being of the opinion that returning your item late and over the course of a several days, piece by piece to the library where it doesn't even belong is not going to be a problem or cause delays in getting the material back on the shelf. OR... believing that yours is the only item of thousands and thousands returned that week that came back without cases or as empty cases or in switched cases, etc. AND that there is someone who has nothing else to do except sit there and fix this unfortunate situation-without-blame.

3.	a moral offense; wrongdoing; sin. It certainly wasn't a right-doing, was it?

Here is my ideal reply:

First of all, you returned the empty case of a cd that belonged to the Main Library to a branch on Monday, April 9. You were then called and told that you had not actually returned the important part of the item you checked out. The branch was not going to keep an empty case that does not belong to them sitting around on the hopes that you'll hurry back and hand over the cd. They prompty sent it to the owning library, the Main Library. This turned out to be a wise move because it took you until Thursday, April 12 to return the actual cd. By this time the cd case had probably arrived at the Main Library and been chucked aside with the bazillion other incomplete items to sit on a shelf in the circulation workroom. OR... they're really busy down there and it's still in a mail tub somewhere waiting to be sorted. Who knows? A few days later your stupid cd arrives in the mail along with a crapzillion other things and is chucked over on the incomplete shelves too. At some point in the near future someone is going to have the time to go through each item piece by piece by piece and see if any of it matches up. It would seem this hasn't happened yet, though, has it?

Secondly, I'd like to address your statement: "I have always paid my fine when it was my error." Always? Because if that were true, you would be able to use your account right now. $14.95 isn't enough to block an account. The limit is $15. You owe $18.25. I checked. That means you could pay the fines for those other things and get back to business while we work at sorting out the mess you made. Or are those unpaid late returns also not your error?

Thirdly, watch the caps lock, Jerkie McCan-do-no-wrong. Seriously. I'm only going to interpret your caps-ed remarks as yelling or condescending and neither is going to motivate me to be very helpful. Try using "please" and sounding as if you are appealing to a capable person to help your sorry ass out. You'd be surprised how effective damsel-in-distress can be on a librarian. The circulation department might be too jaded to fall for it but librarians are suckers. We love to help the helpless. We're like superheroes but instead of adamantium claws or laser vision, we have books and information.

And, finally... YES, THIS IS YOUR ERROR. THIS IS ALL KINDS OF YOUR ERROR. AND THIS IS ME NOT HELPING YOU.

I wish I had a job were I could punch you in the face

One of the hazards of being a librarian is stupid comments from people who don't seem to understand what a librarian does. Yes, I have a wonderful job. Yes, I am allowed to read at the reference desk. Yes, sometimes I supervise teens playing Guitar Hero. No, that isn't all I do. Yet, invariably, I have a patron that will walk up and say, "I wish I had a job where I would sit and read books all day" or "I wish I had a job where I could play video games all day." Me too, ass clown. Me too.

Look, I know I make it look easy most of the time. I'm just that good. But what about when it isn't all fun and games? Where are the snarky bastards then? Today I was alone on the reference desk when I fell victim to a deluge of reference questions. One after another, sometimes two or three at a time. Patrons were lining up at the desk. Other patrons following me around as I tried to help another patron. The phone was ringing off the hook. Other librarians were calling me with their reference questions! Did I crack under pressure? NO! I answered each and every question like the consummate professional I am. I was a fountain of information. No. Not a fountain. I was a fire hose of information. A broken fire hose! Spewing forth information in all directions with no conceivable way to stop me!

Finally, when it all died down, I sat down again. I took a deep a breath, gave myself a pat on the back and decided to check my email. In that instant a patron appeared at my desk and said, "I wish I had a job where I could play on the internet all day." Son...of...a...bitch.

One of these days I'm going to sit down after a particularly busy period and a patron is going to walk up to me and go, "That was awesome. Rock on, librarian. Rock on with your bad self." I can dream, can't I?

Target Is Stalking Me

Last night I got a call on my cell phone. I didn't recognize the number from caller ID but it was a local area code so I was expecting to hear from someone I know. The voice on the other end was heavily accented to the point where I could barely understand anything that was being said. This is odd because I pride myself on having an ear for accents. I love them. But this one was so unusual and thick that it was as if the person was trying to be unintelligible. I did manage to guess correctly that they wanted to speak to me because I thought I heard my name in there somewhere. I confirmed my identity and the caller continued. I made out only the following words:

You
Pharmacy
Call
Right
Feeling

The rest was garbled nonsense. My supercomputer-like brain worked quickly to come up with an appropriate response. What it came up with was, "I'm sorry. Who did you say you were? The Meijer Pharmacy?" A couple months ago I dropped off a prescription at this pharmacy and never returned for a refill because of their astounding incompetence. Well... not mind-blowing criminal incompetence. More like Three Stooges incompetence. And, regardless of whether or not you find the Three Stooges to be funny, no one wants to ingest prescription medication prepared by them. After the poor impression they left on me, I took my doctor-recommended drug habit elsewhere. Enter...

THE TARGET PHARMACY.

A newly renovated Target had opened up nearby. Seeing as how I frequently stop in there and it is conveniently located on my route home from work, I thought I would give their pharmacy a try. I was not disappointed. It was beautiful. Clean. Simple. Organized. Aesthetically pleasing. The two people behind the counter were working calmly but diligently. Everything about them said, "I am in control and I know what I am doing!" And check this out...

Is that not the most adorable and functional pill bottle you have ever laid eyes on? See that green ring? Mine is blue. Because that's my favorite color. They asked. At first I thought this was just another aesthetic thing. Target bringing me joy in little odd ways. Turns out every member of the household gets a different color. That way if you're too delirious with pain or illness to focus your eyes and find your name on a pill bottle OR if you are so entirely illiterate that you cannot recognize your own name when you see it, Target has your back.

And, as it turns out, Target is looking out for me in more ways than I knew. Target is looking out for me with Big Brother-like determination. Let us return to the phone call and you shall see. I had guessed Meijer because I thought that they were wondering why I hadn't come back and refilled my prescription with them. Not so. The woman on the other end of the phone continued in her absurdly thick accent. This is the gist of the conversation:

Lady (note: I have paraphrased because I could still only understand slightly more than half of what was being said): No. This is the Target pharmacy. How are you?
Me: Oh. Good. Good.
Target lady: Good. We are calling tonight to follow up with the prescription you filled with us recently. How is your illness? Are you feeling better?
Me: Um... yeah? I'm... okay. Why?
Total f-ing stranger from Target: We just wanted to check on you and see you are feeling better. That is all. I will go and so you can enjoy your evening.
Me: Uh... okay. Thanks?

Bizarre. Just bizarre. Here's why:

1. I'm not sick. I have no illness. I'm taking a maintenance dose of a common antibiotic for a few months to clear up my skin. Not that they would know that because...

2. They are not doctors. They are not my health care provider. Their job is to put the drugs my doctor wants me to take into a little bottle with a pretty blue ring on it and sell it to me. Nothing more. It's none of their business what it wrong with me. Because...

3. What if I wasn't feeling well? What are they going to do about it? Bring me chicken soup? Send a card? Or...

4. Were they expecting me to have problems for some reason? Do they know something I don't? Did they give me the wrong stuff and just now noticed? Do they suspect that one of their employees has been poisoning the drug supply and are gathering evidence against him?

Here it is, Target. Don't call people about personal medical issues at home. It's just creepy. I don't want to talk about what is and is not wrong with my body with Target employees. Thanks, but no thanks.

Very creepy.