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Dangerous Compassions

library frustration

At the library I got upset with a librarian who wouldn’t help me find a book. I knew it was about a professor going back to school to find out what freshman year is like nowadays, and I searched and searched on the catalog computer. Erik told me to ask for help, and I did. The worker was a jerk–she said that without a title or author, she couldn’t help me. I went back to my catalog computer and figured out myself how to use the advanced search and found it in two minutes by searching titles for the words “my first year” and then for “freshman.” I couldn’t believe the unwillingness and / or ineptitude. I wanted to ask, “Are you a librarian?” I’m pretty sure she was. Anyway, I got the book.

But then I was looking for another book–the catalog computer said it was there, but I couldn’t find it on the shelf. I asked a different librarian for help (this was on a different floor) and he couldn’t find it either. He said he could request it from a different branch, but the whole reason I wanted to go to Central was because the computer said it was there.

I was so mad about the first librarian that I thought about writing a letter. After I found the listing for the book I went to tell her how I’d found it, to try to help her see that what she considered impossible is possible, and she didn’t care. She said, “Congratulations,” like I was developmentally disabled and smiled a wicked smile. Boy did I hate her guts.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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