Each year the tax assistance program descends on our library and takes over a big chunk of the space reserved to the adult services department. In my heart of hearts, I know they are doing a wonderful service to the elderly & disadvantaged--in fact my father was a faithful volunteer for many years--but I want them to do it someplace far away from us! For two months out of the year, they literally take over.
The volunteers are almost as needy as those waiting for their help--everything from setting up computers for them, wanting our phone books, using the only phone at the reference desk--even wanted to take our waste basket into "their" room!
And then there are those who have been hounding us for tax help since before Christmas ("no, we don't have the forms yet", "no, I can't do your taxes; why not? Because I don't do my own"). They're not regular library users--except once a year to get their taxes done--and they have little concept about what a library is all about. Staff members know to stay clear of the entry when the doors open at 10 AM for they stampede in--and take no prisoners as no one wants to wait (and these are people without jobs! What else are they going to do all day?) There are magazines & newspapers close at hand--not to mention thousands of books--but they don't pick up anything to read (well, except those few who grab newspapers & then leave them strewn across the tables. Was no one else taught to put things back the way you found them?) Which leaves them with plenty of time on their hands to complain about the library's services.
"They don't have coffee for us. What do they expect us to do while we're waiting?" (gee, maybe next year Starbucks will offer their area for the tax assistance program. And see if it's free then).
"Do you have a needle? How about a pin? I have this splinter that I need you to get out". When told that no, I did not have sharp implements at the desk he announced, "Well, you're not very helpful, are you?" (no, and why would you even ask a stranger to come at you with a needle?)
And my favorite came today when the gentleman came up to me & asked, "is the headlight bearing in?" I had no idea why a headlight would be bearing in on me or if a headlight needed a bearing--and why would I have one--when I politely requested that he repeat the question. Looking a bit perturbed at me he repeated, "is the head librarian in?". Finally, a question I could answer!
Eight more weeks of this. Hell hath no fury like a librarian gone mad!
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