I didn't know how old he was, but picture your Seventh grade Social Studies teacher and add a little gray to his hair. He's clutching this audio book about the Korean war and announces he owes two dollars in fines because he tried to renew the thing over the phone and our system wasn't working.
When someone announces that they have fines they'd like to pay or that the item they are turning in is "late" I immediately cease performing service desk duties under my usual default of checking everything in "fine free" and ignoring what person owes as a grand total in fines. I'm all for getting people in and out, offering the same amount of curt kindness to everybody. Management has wanted us to start telling people how much they owe in fines, but I refuse to. I can see their reasoning. A person has a big-ass fine and they're pissed. If they're poor, they usually leave. Or they pay. If they have the means of paying it, they either pay or they try to talk their way out of it and that's where management comes in and our managers have to deal with people day in and day out who pull out every excuse, one of the most popular being "I was never told I amassed a thirty cent fine back in 2007!" And its true. They weren't . Can you imagine the amount of property tax resources we'd have to waste to send you a piece of paper telling you about your misdeeds back when Amy Winehouses ruled the Earth?
"you mean to tell me that I have to check my account to see if everything has been turned in!?!" some old bitty screamed at me once while she fished through her gigantic purse to find old batteries to recycle. We have a battery recycling bin right by our exit. I swear it's just like one of those weird ultraviolet light machines exurbanites place on the edge of their yards to attract and zap mosquitoes. In our case, the battery recycling bin is dual purpose: recycle dead batteries and attract the Shit-House-Rat-People.
Yes. Check your account. If something hasn't been turned in and you know you turned it in, call the library and pray to God that you get me, since I'll take it off your account, no questions asked.
And Yes. Fines are lame. They're lame because they are put in place for fucktards who don't bring things back. And they are extra lame because they slap the wrist of the fucktards who bring things back, who do the thing that we ultimately want them to do, but are merely doing that thing a smidge too late. The fucktards who don't bring things back and never come back end up winning. It's a flawed system, but its all we have. So I get it. But yet it also annoys me when someone complains about a thirty cent fine on a book that would have cost them a hundred times as much in retail. And in an age where states are cutting libraries off completely can't you just file this under "Gosh-Golly-Gee!"? Get over it. I would gladly pay three dollars, (our online fine payment minimum), to not have to stand in line and talk to someone about my fines. Or anything. Even if they have a sexy story to tell. It's just not worth it. Yesterday I was at a Co-op and I bought this two dollar dip from the deli. When I got home, I opened it and found out that someone had scooped out a portion of the dip with their finger, just gouged the fucking center of it and replaced the top, putting it back on the shelf for me to buy. I could have taken it back. Drove all the way back. Tried to explain. No. I ate it. Those of you who know me know that this is a big deal. I'm a germaphobe. I don't share glasses of water with friends. But when it comes to time and money, I'll file it under "gosh-golly-gee" and eat that tainted dip. I'm still alive. (Am I? Am I really?)
So management wants us to remind our patrons of their mundane misdemeanors because they are trying to reduce the amount of times they have to hear the excuse "I was never informed of owing thirty pennies!!!This is serious business! Is my credit affected?!?" (When in doubt, protest, project blame and protest. Repeat.)
And I just won't tell people, unless they inquire. Especially when we live in an age where they can take three steps away from me and check for themselves on a computer.
So your social studies teacher with the gray sideburns is clutching his audio book and his excuse is "I tried to renew this over the phone but it didn't work." I usually take things at face value, although in reality, if he really gave two shits about incurring a thirty cent fine, he would have stayed on the line and talked to someone who could help him, instead of waiting for three days. Or called the next day if he was calling after hours. I don't ask, I just work here. I renewed it for him with the fines waived and, (since he made a great effort to announce he had fines to pay), told him he owed three dollars.
He doesn't hand me the money, he tosses it, rather, letting it fall in a haphazard pattern across my desk. All of you, please, when you pay a clerk, please take the time to hand them your money or your card. Don't be a douche.
He started in on "Doesn't it kind of suck that," and uuuuuuuggghhhhhh, I knew where this was going, "I have to pay money for something I tried to renew but couldn't because your system wasn't working?"
"This isn't for that," I say, "Its for other things that were turned in late." I start to list them and he cuts me off.
"Whatever! Clear the account." Because I need to be reminded of how to do my job.
This is big stuff here people. Big important stuff and he is an important client who has important business to attend to on a Sunday and we are all in his way, taking up his time, causing so much bullshit for him. Make way! He storms out, with a pile of books that he didn't check out, a pile of books he didn't give me time to check out for him. He'll probably call back and complain about how we screwed him, once again. All for three dollars. Get mad at the government. Get mad at your credit card company, your insurance people, or your employer because they might be fucking you over...but if you're mad at a library, I need to see pictures of that library taking the virtue of your beloved before I take you seriously.
I was telling a coworker about this, how the dude just tossed the money at me over the counter. My coworker stood there and listened. Then he told me how once he was working at a video store and a customer paid his late fees by balling up each dollar and throwing them, one-by-one, at his face.
I felt a little better.
Ahhh Pettiness. And my coworker probably did the same thing I had to do: sit there and be professionally kind to the dick, and then continue to be kind to the line of people that followed. Isn't this a form of meditation? Cutting people deals even though they are dicks and continuing to maintain a calm kindness against a sea of nutbars? If it is, it's really hard. It's like that super hard yoga you see people do, even though you'd think "super hard yoga" is an oxymoron...but it is. That super hard yoga that people do in rooms heated with infrared lights.
All that anguish for three dollars. I should have shorted the register and spent that money on a bottle of three buck chuck. But it would probably taste like sour grapes. (yoink!)
When someone announces that they have fines they'd like to pay or that the item they are turning in is "late" I immediately cease performing service desk duties under my usual default of checking everything in "fine free" and ignoring what person owes as a grand total in fines. I'm all for getting people in and out, offering the same amount of curt kindness to everybody. Management has wanted us to start telling people how much they owe in fines, but I refuse to. I can see their reasoning. A person has a big-ass fine and they're pissed. If they're poor, they usually leave. Or they pay. If they have the means of paying it, they either pay or they try to talk their way out of it and that's where management comes in and our managers have to deal with people day in and day out who pull out every excuse, one of the most popular being "I was never told I amassed a thirty cent fine back in 2007!" And its true. They weren't . Can you imagine the amount of property tax resources we'd have to waste to send you a piece of paper telling you about your misdeeds back when Amy Winehouses ruled the Earth?
"you mean to tell me that I have to check my account to see if everything has been turned in!?!" some old bitty screamed at me once while she fished through her gigantic purse to find old batteries to recycle. We have a battery recycling bin right by our exit. I swear it's just like one of those weird ultraviolet light machines exurbanites place on the edge of their yards to attract and zap mosquitoes. In our case, the battery recycling bin is dual purpose: recycle dead batteries and attract the Shit-House-Rat-People.
Yes. Check your account. If something hasn't been turned in and you know you turned it in, call the library and pray to God that you get me, since I'll take it off your account, no questions asked.
And Yes. Fines are lame. They're lame because they are put in place for fucktards who don't bring things back. And they are extra lame because they slap the wrist of the fucktards who bring things back, who do the thing that we ultimately want them to do, but are merely doing that thing a smidge too late. The fucktards who don't bring things back and never come back end up winning. It's a flawed system, but its all we have. So I get it. But yet it also annoys me when someone complains about a thirty cent fine on a book that would have cost them a hundred times as much in retail. And in an age where states are cutting libraries off completely can't you just file this under "Gosh-Golly-Gee!"? Get over it. I would gladly pay three dollars, (our online fine payment minimum), to not have to stand in line and talk to someone about my fines. Or anything. Even if they have a sexy story to tell. It's just not worth it. Yesterday I was at a Co-op and I bought this two dollar dip from the deli. When I got home, I opened it and found out that someone had scooped out a portion of the dip with their finger, just gouged the fucking center of it and replaced the top, putting it back on the shelf for me to buy. I could have taken it back. Drove all the way back. Tried to explain. No. I ate it. Those of you who know me know that this is a big deal. I'm a germaphobe. I don't share glasses of water with friends. But when it comes to time and money, I'll file it under "gosh-golly-gee" and eat that tainted dip. I'm still alive. (Am I? Am I really?)
So management wants us to remind our patrons of their mundane misdemeanors because they are trying to reduce the amount of times they have to hear the excuse "I was never informed of owing thirty pennies!!!This is serious business! Is my credit affected?!?" (When in doubt, protest, project blame and protest. Repeat.)
And I just won't tell people, unless they inquire. Especially when we live in an age where they can take three steps away from me and check for themselves on a computer.
So your social studies teacher with the gray sideburns is clutching his audio book and his excuse is "I tried to renew this over the phone but it didn't work." I usually take things at face value, although in reality, if he really gave two shits about incurring a thirty cent fine, he would have stayed on the line and talked to someone who could help him, instead of waiting for three days. Or called the next day if he was calling after hours. I don't ask, I just work here. I renewed it for him with the fines waived and, (since he made a great effort to announce he had fines to pay), told him he owed three dollars.
He doesn't hand me the money, he tosses it, rather, letting it fall in a haphazard pattern across my desk. All of you, please, when you pay a clerk, please take the time to hand them your money or your card. Don't be a douche.
He started in on "Doesn't it kind of suck that," and uuuuuuuggghhhhhh, I knew where this was going, "I have to pay money for something I tried to renew but couldn't because your system wasn't working?"
"This isn't for that," I say, "Its for other things that were turned in late." I start to list them and he cuts me off.
"Whatever! Clear the account." Because I need to be reminded of how to do my job.
This is big stuff here people. Big important stuff and he is an important client who has important business to attend to on a Sunday and we are all in his way, taking up his time, causing so much bullshit for him. Make way! He storms out, with a pile of books that he didn't check out, a pile of books he didn't give me time to check out for him. He'll probably call back and complain about how we screwed him, once again. All for three dollars. Get mad at the government. Get mad at your credit card company, your insurance people, or your employer because they might be fucking you over...but if you're mad at a library, I need to see pictures of that library taking the virtue of your beloved before I take you seriously.
I was telling a coworker about this, how the dude just tossed the money at me over the counter. My coworker stood there and listened. Then he told me how once he was working at a video store and a customer paid his late fees by balling up each dollar and throwing them, one-by-one, at his face.
I felt a little better.
Ahhh Pettiness. And my coworker probably did the same thing I had to do: sit there and be professionally kind to the dick, and then continue to be kind to the line of people that followed. Isn't this a form of meditation? Cutting people deals even though they are dicks and continuing to maintain a calm kindness against a sea of nutbars? If it is, it's really hard. It's like that super hard yoga you see people do, even though you'd think "super hard yoga" is an oxymoron...but it is. That super hard yoga that people do in rooms heated with infrared lights.
All that anguish for three dollars. I should have shorted the register and spent that money on a bottle of three buck chuck. But it would probably taste like sour grapes. (yoink!)
1 comment:
Good job on eating that dip!
Or is that a sad thing?
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