Some lady got miffed at me today because AOL wasn't working. I told her it might be an AOL/Mac issue. Or it could be an AOL server issue, for all I knew. It seemed to be working on our end. She could input. She could click. I guess she wanted me to pull her email messages out of my ear though, because she got very upset with that answer. I expected her to go to someone else and ask them, hoping maybe that they could pull the email messages out of their ears. But no.
I was also told our public library wasn't very public because we didn't allow internet without a card -- after we told her she could use the fifteen minute terminal. She said, "But you had rules you could enforce." And I'm thinking, I paid Simmons how much so that I could fight with kids about the fact they've spent the last four hours on the internet? I told her, nicely, that we had more important things to do than police the internet.
Boy, am I in a foul mood.
It's the fault of this cold. I have chipmunk lymph nodes. And it's the fault of two teenage girls and their pack of wild teenage followers. They seem to think that they can get away with anything. I sent them upstairs because they were hanging out in the lower level looking at sex books. Now, they're old enough, I could care less that they're looking at Puberty for Dummies and that sort of thing. I mean, hell, I suppose it's good for them. When there's a pack of six of them down there, talking so loudly I could hear them all the way upstairs over the very loud server noise, then we have a problem.
I worry more about their safety down there. It's secluded. It's not patroled that often. It worries me.
So they come upstairs and start hanging out in the periodicals. They're clanging the periodical racks, they're talking loudly. Once again, from across the library, I can hear them over the sound of the server. Seeing that information was tied up, I went over and told them to quiet down... twice. Then one of them flipped me the bird, according to another.
So I threw them all out. They didn't go. An older guybrarian, who is just the sweetest thing normally but quite scary when he's mad, went to back me up. They dispersed, but didn't leave. I went and rounded them up again and said, "No, seriously, you have to go." They made this bluffing noises about how tough they were (sort of like my snakes do when they don't want to be handled). Finally, between me and the now very scary guybrarian, the kids got the point and left. Funny, when the first two ringleaders left, the rest filed out quietly.
We've thrown them out three days in the last five.
We got into a discussion of the things they don't teach you in library school. Even an internship, I don't think, could give you this kind of experience. I love it. I love shushing people.
I'm proud of that. I am. I do love to shush people. Hi, LISNewsters, my name is shoe and I love to shush. I dress conservatively. I wear my hair up. I wear horn rimmed glasses. I've never smoked a cigarette and I've never worn high heels.
And an eight foot python lives in my living room. Eleven more significantly smaller ones live upstairs in our guest bedroom (not many guests here). Hey, you can't be all stereotype. Besides, snakes are so quiet.