- minorminer
- to the women who marched into its pointing at me this morning; yes, we work here, and yes, it's sunday, and yes, we're open. get the fuck over it and get your finger out of my fucking face. what's that? you weren't pointing at me? yes, we also have a copier, try not to die of shock.
- to "oswald," who has insinuated himself into getting my name twice by coming to the desk and asking unnecessary questions- i do not like you. please stop looking at me that way, and please stop coming to the desk to ask for change for a twenty. please stop asking for my name, because i'm too caught off guard by your slimy advances to think quickly and give you a fake one, even though since you've now asked twice, perhaps you've forgotten the first time and next time you're here i can lie through my teeth. i am not here as someone to approach in any way other than professional. i have to be nice to you because i work here, but i am seriously considering dispensing with that next time. to oswald; do not make there be a next time. please.
- to the populace who comes to the library in general; i am only here to check out books, not yourselves. please keep your ambitions in your pants and outside the doors. i am not interested.
- to the guy who asked for change for a twenty today at the library without trying to hit on me; thank you, initially, but OPEN YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH WHEN YOU SPEAK, HOMIE, OR YOU AIN'T GETTIN' NO CHANGE. Jesus christ.
- to the woman who came in to borrow a laptop today and then left it at the desk to go to the bathroom; you do not stump up to the counter and mumble/snap "i want a pc" at the desk help to borrow a laptop. you say "hi, can i take out a windows laptop?" and then wait patiently while the person at the desk does your bidding, instead of huffing and leaning on the counter like you're going to have an irritated seizure. also, your perfume smells like you strangled a baby prostitute. please go wash.
- to the brunette freshman (i assume) girl: yes, it's the bloody computer lab. get your fat mouthbreathing face off the glass and either come inside to show your parents and younger, yet still equally idiotic sister the computers, or please at least stop gaping at us through the door like we're a previously-unseen race of genetically-engineered monkeys. it's a room full of computers. it is not that exciting.
- jesus christ, people, it's a computer lab, not a fish bowl. you can open the damn door and come in and look at things instead of peering through the glass like we're some kind of science experiment in here.
- do you not think i can see you, you batty woman in the straw hat? i'm fifteen fucking feet from you, stop gaping at me like i'm in the bloody zoo.
- to the old man who waved me over without explaining what he needed my help with nor understood that i cannot just leave the desk; is it too much these days to expect people to know what a drop-down menu on a computer is, how to use google to find a website, and how to print things from attachments?
- to the greasy fox-haired creeper: first of all, you do not hail me from wherever you are sitting, you come up and ask my help at the desk. secondly, you do not need my help plugging the cable into the port. don't tell me you don't know where it is. thirdly, "wouldn't want to put it in the wrong hole" is not a good thing to say to ease tension in this situation, and not something you should say at all to someone thirty years your junior. lastly, and most importantly: if you ever ask me again to help fix your computer with my "magic touch," my fist is going to "magic touch" your face straight back through the reserve shelf. capice?
- to the man who walked into its fifteen minutes from close and asked me if its was open: where do you think you are?
- to the guy who was sitting with a buddy of his at the computers playing some sort of game: i'm pretty sure your genitals are very firmly attached to your body, and are not in immediate danger of falling off or retracting into your torso. if you could please refrain from putting your hand down the front of your shorts to reassure yourself every five seconds or so while you're in public, that would be nice of you.
- to the family who came in to ask for help and then proceeded to talk about me in third person in front of me: i can hear you. i can hear you, see you, and be irritated with you, and you are distracting me by making things up about my current situation and my glasses. please keep your thoughts in your over-assuming, judgmental heads until you leave the building.
- to the man with the crazy van dyke stashe wildly dancing to the overloud music at his computer in the library: everyone can hear you. everyone can see you. just because you are black and have got the moves does not mean they need to be showcased in a place which is supposed to be reserved for quiet study. you clearly already have headphones. turn them the fuck down.
- to the chinese student who came to check out books tonight and asked me if a certain volume was "calculus:" the word is "circulation," honey, and the words before that are "not" and "in."
- to the woman whose music i unwillingly listened to for fifteen minutes before i could tell her to turn it down: previously, i could hear all the lyrics from twenty feet away at my desk. now i can only hear the percussion, and that's probably more annoying than before. i am surprised that you are not completely deaf by now; although, given the volume and duration, perhaps you find it necessary to turn it up so you can hear anything at all. please leave soon.
aug 14 2011 ∞
may 9 2015 +