OK, I give up. The temperature dropped last night and apparently everyone's brain froze.

Patron: "I'm new here and I'm looking for a computer lab where I can type up a paper."
Me: "OK, well, we've got about 20 set up here. It's 10 cents a page to print. There are also pods where the fees you pay with tution already cover the printing." I then tell her where the five pods on campus are.
Patron: "OK, so where's the one here?"
Me: (pointing) "Just right around the corner." (And we're talking about 10 feet away. You could see the computers from where she was standing.)
Patron: "Where."
Me: (pointing again) "Just right over there. Around the corner."
Patron: "Oh, do I have to go down the hall and..."
Me: (getting up and walking the three feet to the corner that's obstructing my view) "Just right there."
Patron: "Oh." (walks away toward the computers)

Apparently we are a user-unfriendly library because our circ cash register is out of dimes. Or at least that's what the "faculty member" told me before he stomped off threatening to complain about us to "President __________," who, uh, happens to no longer be the president of the university. Oh well. Apparently the guy hasn't noticed that WE HAD A FIRE and half of the library is closed. First, he couldn't find the copy machine. (I came to the desk as he was being given directions. They included math, i.e. "walk at a 45 degree angle," so it's easy to see why he may have been confused.) And then I guess he couldn't make it work. I just don't quite understand the focus on dimes, though. Yes, copies are ten cents a page. But this machine (granted, unlike some of our old archaic microform reader/printers that currently aren't available anyway) takes dollars and other coins, so what's the big whoop? I mean, yes, the library isn't the most user-friendly place in the world. Don't even get me started on the Pharos system. But the copy machine... insert cash or swipe card. Put item to copy on the glass. Press green button. Machine will spit out copy. Press change return button for change. The machines have advanced, but the concept really hasn't changed in the last 20 years or so.

I was going to complain about how all the library stuff (you know, like printing and the catalog) went down, leaving the net up, but now it's back up. Hurrah. It's better to have the catalog actually up and running instead of half-heartedly making up numbers based on vague OpenWorldCat searching. I'm just saying...

Reasons why I should change the name of my blog (but I won't):

I got married and haven't had an affair with a steaming hot patron yet.

I take heartburn medication like all dead-inside desk drones.

I'm wearing a turtleneck and pants with an elastic waist. (Granted, the turtleneck is to keep me from freezing to death--and taking an eye out with a pointy nipple when I do, but still...)

I just stood in front of a group of public computer users and said, "Hi there. We're starting to get a line so if you're not doing academic or library research, I'd really appreciate it if you could wrap it up so other people can use the computers. Thanks!" in total dorky girl voice.

I can't remember the last bad library-related thing I did.

My reference work (in a large research university library, mind you) has devolved into helping patrons figure out how to use Yahoo! email (one today, two on Thursday when I was last on the desk) and eBay. (I actually had a woman *call* for help with eBay first thing this afternoon!) Do I really need to know about this one guy's girlfriend that he IMs all day? And all the other girls he talks to, too? Sheesh.

When did the reference librarian become the captive audience for any and all social rants? Bitch at me about (lack of) service if you will, but don't bitch at me about the state of humanity. It's not in my job description.