Here's Your Porn, Have a Nice Day!

It's been awhile since I've posted. Hi everyone. Nice to see you again. This story happened several weeks ago, but it is one that must be shared.

So I'm working on the Info Desk and a man my age is fiddling with the copier (which also prints stuff from the internet computers). The patron can't get his pages to print, so I go over to help. I see his print job is pending, and he simply needs to push one last button. Keep in mind...print jobs from ALL the internet computers are held in the copier, and I was just assuming that this particular, half-released print job belonged to him, since he'd already been fiddling with the machine.

Also, it's important for you to know that I have a personal policy about not looking at people's print-outs. I walk them through the process of printing their documents, and once the pages come out, I hand them to the patrons without looking at them. It's their private business (bank statements, resumes, etc.) so I don't want to see it.

Phew. Okay. So here we go.

I'm standing at the copier with the patron, I release the print job, and three printed pages come out. Each page was covered with about 12 pornographic pictures. Not knowing the content, I hand them directly to the patron and say, "Is that all you needed?"
He throws his hands up in the air, to show that he doesn't even want to touch them. "Those aren't mine!" he cries. I was so mortified I couldn't even look him in the eyes. I said, "Oh, I am so sorry." He asked, incredulously, "Are people ALLOWED to print that stuff out?" I said, "No, no no no no no NO. I mean, they're not supposed to view it or print it. Something is wrong with our filter. I'll figure out what's going on. Again, I am so sorry!"

It didn't take long for this story to spread among the library staff, and for the rest of the day, they were coming up to me at the Info Desk and asking if this was where they could pick up their free porn.

Lovely Small Irony

I was just checking the cataloging on a new cookbook:



The author's last name? Goodbody.

The Origins of Vegetariansm

I try not to look at the ongoing Friends of the Library book sale in the foyer of the library. I have enough stuff in my life...I'm really trying to cut down, even on books. But I peeked through today and found a great Microwave Cookbook from Kenmore that looks like it was from the Seventies. I'd give you the date, but there was no publication data, just a part number. Probably came with the microwave. Anyway, check out the lovely, mouthwatering pix of these delectable items:




MMMMM.....me like fishy.....

Modern Scholar, an ongoing series

Found by the printer. I'm hoping it was a first draft.

Your Tax Dollars at Work

My job is not all being oppressed or mean. Tonight I got to show a woman who needed to find news items from certain days how to use our newspaper databases. Her boyfriend wanted Chiltons, but I showed him the car repair database. They were both pretty psyched (in a subdued library sort of way). At moments like that, I like to remind people that the cool databases are things they paid for with their taxes.

Please Don't Die

I don't mean to be overdramatic, but there is this guy in the Men's room just across the hall from the DeskSlave's office (part of a shared desk in an unbelievably croweded room, actually, but I like to think of it as an office) making a noise that sounds like



HWAAAAAKHH KAHHHHH HWAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!



I suspect that it has something to do with expectoration* but part of me fears that the sufferer is going to fall into some sort of unfortunate cardiac episode. I fear that not just because I wish all humans well--such a nice fellow, the DeskSlave--but because I think I have probably forgotten all that CPR they made me learn and even if I remembered it, I don't think I'd want to do it on some hacking guy on the floor of the oft-mentioned skanky Men's Room.

So please, sir, get well soon. And get out of here

Compassionately,

The DeskSlave

* This is the only time you will ever see this word not on the side of a cough syrup bottle, BTW.

What I learned today

If you want to make your cell phone quiet and private, leave the main area of the little library, go down the dank hall toward the skanky restrooms and stop right in front of the little holding pen where the DeskSlave and his compatriots huddle at computers when they aren't at the Magical Reference Desk. Then hold forth over the phone in a tone most people use to hail ships across vast expanses of the sea.

It's Official

It's love. Found by a InterWeb Thin Client thing.

Translation

In my day, said the curmudgeonly DeskSlave, we had a perfectly good phrase: On the Shelf. If we had your book/CD/Movie/What-have-you, it was said to be "on the shelf."
"Do you have the Sue Grafton book G is for Gotta Get Me a New Gimmick Goddammit?" the patron would say.
After consulting with the catalog and finding it in the Checked In status, we would say, "Yes, that should be on the shelf. Let me show you where that is."
No any more. Now it's more like, "Is M is for Making Many More Millions in stock?"
In Stock? What are we, Blockbuster? Well, sadly, for a lot of people, yes, I reckon we are. So they wouldn't call and ask for a book, come to think of it. It'd be some horrid movie.

Reason # 5,328 Not to Use Our Internet Machines

As part of my DeskSlave duties, I wander around the library, looking for people to harass help. I also occasionally look up from my internet shopping expeditions important research just to see what's happening in my immediate environment. Part of that environment, sadly, is the Internet computers. So I just looked over and saw this guy picking away idly at his nose while he surfed. Not just picking, either. Major excavation. Spelunking. Treasure hunt. I'm amazed that it didn't dislodge an eye. So: DON'T GO NEAR THOSE DURN INTERWEB COMPUTERS. Thank you.