Archive for March, 2008

an interruption

I just have to tell you that my afternoon of Internet bliss was just now interrupted by a  student. A student who asked a question I didn’t understand. Come on, now, students, give me a break.

To make matters worse, she was sent here looking for the librarian “who knows everything.” The Queen Bea, of course. This library is where professors send their students for any miscellaneous project. They send these students to the Bea, and the Bea sets them right with their academic question and any other question they’ve ever had.

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a quiet afternoon

With the Bea gone, I don’t have much to say, friends. Oh Bea, how I miss you.

There are three people in the library right now besides me. One of them is packing up to leave. Oh, wait, there goes the second one. Damn. I wish I could make them stay. Somehow it might make my job more meaningful.

There is one person left, and he is the computer guy, so he doesn’t count. If he weren’t here right now, I know what I’d be doing. Could you guess, friends?

I’ll tell you. I would be pretending that this was a real library. That’s right. I would be using this new scanner to scan books and practice my judgmental looks after the scanner beeps. “Look, sir, this book is way overdue.”

This pretend professor or student would look bewildered.

“I’m talking 10 dollars, sir. I’ll take cash,” I would say.

I don’t know how to work this equipment but I accidentally discovered one night that you could place any barcode under the scanner and it would beep. So scanning and giggling ensued.

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Best day ever

Oh, friends, let me tell you– today is a good day. Queen Bea is on the road and away from the library for the next two days.

That means I can openly savor this fine coffee I’m drinking. Sad, I know, but there is a hard no-food-or-drinks-policy here in this library. When I first started working here, I would get hungry and dehydrated. Not anymore. I have become quite used to tucking away a mug of coffee and taking secret swigs when Queen Bea’s in her office. When she walks, her keys jingle, and I have just enough time to rehide whatever shenanigans I’m up to.

I spend a lot of my time here looking out for the patrons. Though the no-drinks policy is clearly posted outside the library doors, many of them forget and will drink water or coffee in the library. When the Bea is testy, she will patrol the area and ask people to tuck away their drinks.

This happens on occasion. When an expensive book goes missing in this library, Bea is more likely to tear through the library and ask people to remove their drinks. On these sorts of days, I try to get to the patrons before Bea does. I’ll whisper to them that Bea will likely walk by. They’ll quickly put their drinks away and thank me.

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A degree in my spare time

Well, here I am, fresh-faced from a brisk walk from the local parking garage. I just listened to the song Psycho Killer on my iPod and stepped to the beat. Don’t tell.

When I arrived this morning, Queen Bea, looking quite sharp in a double-breasted suit, greeted me when I popped in her office to drop off her mail. Someone important, a journalism visiting scholar of some sort, was sitting in her office. He seemed important, at least, wearing a navy blazer with gold buttons. Older and established, that sort of thing.

Well see here, the Bea told the scholar…this drone does mighty fine work retrieving my mail and helping sort dirty, outdated newspapers. She also helped me look some things up on the internet. Glad I could help, Bea. So glad.

Oh, I’m also getting a degree in my spare time here, and I might also like a job when I’m finished. No biggie.

I’m off to help scavenge some office supplies for this place. A few weeks ago, I swiped a box of pens from the office supply center downstairs. Those pens are long gone.

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I am a drone

Okay, so. I’m sitting here, in the library, and not one soul has stepped through the doors. Why, oh why, friends, can’t we just close at 5?

I know you don’t have the answer.

“Queen Bea,” I’ll call her, rules this library, and I am one of her little drones. She was already gone when I arrived at work today, but earlier she gave me another little project to do. After six months of working here, I’ve figured out a system for each little task, and this new one is no exception. I’ll stretch it out and fly under the radar for a week or two. I will quietly complete school-related work. The Queen will forget what she’s told me to do. Then, when she remembers and mentions it to me, I’ll get the task done within a few hours.

I’m guessing Bea is about 80 years old, but she shows no signs of retiring. She wakes up every morning, and spends what looks like a good amount of time spends coiffing her curly hair into a prominent poof. She puts on a quarter inch of brown eyeliner (at least) and dons a dark outfit. (She wears dark colors so the dirt from the books don’t show up on her sleeves.)

Bea’s rituals– personal, business or otherwise– never seem to change. But if they did, I fear the library would implode. The library needs her, and in her own stacks no one knows as much as she does.

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