In the library world, I hear a lot o' things. For the most part, I maintain composure and keep on typing/cutting/pasting/etc. But sometimes, a giggle escapes. Or a snort. Or an eyeroll. Geez, I'm lucky no one has called 9tothe1tothe1 yet, thinking I'm having some sort of seizure.
* A high school girl came up to me last week and asked me for the book Heroshemia. I thought maybe it was some manga-ey thing, so I asked her what it was about. This is how that conversation went:
* A high school girl came up to me last week and asked me for the book Heroshemia. I thought maybe it was some manga-ey thing, so I asked her what it was about. This is how that conversation went:
Me: Okay, what was that one about?
Girl: It's a made-up story like about when the Americans thought they were going to have a bomb.
Me: Oh, you mean Hiroshima. You're looking for a book about Hiroshima.
Girl: Yeah, that's it.
Me: Okay, do you need a specific book, or just any old book?
Girl: I need a pacific book. It has a Ferris wheel on the cover. And it's a made up book, like with chapters?
I was able to find what she needed (neither made up nor featuring a Ferris wheel), but it wasn't in, so she left disappointed, and I, once again, became disenchanted with these youths of America.
Girl: It's a made-up story like about when the Americans thought they were going to have a bomb.
Me: Oh, you mean Hiroshima. You're looking for a book about Hiroshima.
Girl: Yeah, that's it.
Me: Okay, do you need a specific book, or just any old book?
Girl: I need a pacific book. It has a Ferris wheel on the cover. And it's a made up book, like with chapters?
I was able to find what she needed (neither made up nor featuring a Ferris wheel), but it wasn't in, so she left disappointed, and I, once again, became disenchanted with these youths of America.
*There's this a-plus-dorable little girl that comes in with her mom on Tuesday nights. She's about seven, really sweet, and tells me all the time that I am her favorite because I have fun shoes and jewelry in my nose. Loves her. But she also has an issue, just a teensy one, with passing gas. It's actually kind of hilarious. She'll be talking, then mid-sentence, you'll just hear a "toot," and she keeps on going. Happens several times a night. Haven't snorted yet, but I have had to leave the area to keep from giggling. You go, non-self-conscious girl. May you never be embarrassed by bodily functions.
*There's this older guy that comes in with younger kids. They are very well behaved, they just sit on the computer and play games. But the dad, well, he has the most fun of them all, because he builds these epic structures with the giant blocks we have in the preschool area. The kids are all, "hey Dad, come help me find Winnie the Pooh," and the dad's all like "hold on just a second, let me finish this tier." Awesome.
*One of my favorite storytime kids is an absolute doll, and really well-spoken for being barely three years old. She comes up to me today and asks me why I look like Ariel now. "Ariel?" I asked. "Yah, the Little Mermaid." I've heard worse.
* This gruff sounding guy calls in, and he's looking for a book called The Very Cranky Bear. "Okay," I tell him. "Let me see if we have it." We don't. I check a few other local libraries. No one's got it. So I tell him that I'm having a hard time tracking it down. He sighs this big, awful "you're ruining my day" sigh and asks me if I am spelling it right. I told him, yes, I'm sure that my second-grade spelling skills can handle Very. Cranky. Bear. Would you believe that he hung up on me?
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