why is it that i never really know what i'm doing?

i went to school. got the 27k in debt to prove it. they taught me all kindsa nifty stuff.

and yet, what do i do when an 8 year old pees on the floor in a stream from the self checks to the kids computers? (and just how big is an 8 year old's bladder anyway?) what do i do when a man with garlic and steak breath professes his undying love to me. again. for the 3rd time today.

this is a chronicle of what i did, when the crazy happened. which, in a public library is much more often than you'd think. and which, they also don't teach you about in liberry skool.

oh, and there's also a book review or two.

Monday, June 14, 2010

the language of love

ok, so, currently we have no spanish speakers at my library. not one. the public has to endure mine and a couple of coworkers' baby talk.


so, one of the circ attendants (they check out the books) comes to get me. she asks me to explain to the guy that he has a fine and that he can either pay it today or later.

it goes something like this:

me: *flipping furiously through the notebook looking for the word for 'fines'* tiene un multa (that's fine!) por regresa los libros luego. es un dolar y quarenta centavos.

him: *blank stare*

me: *flipping furiously through the notebook again looking for a way to say he returned his books late* los libros regresa en un dia luego.....*i trail off, i'm pretty sure luego is the wrong word*

him: *blank stare*

me: *flipping furiouisly through the notebook again looking for the word 'later'* peuda pagar el multa ahora o en un otra dia, esta bien......

him: *blank stare* no espeaka spanish.

oops. turns out the guy was arabic. he probably thought i was crazy.
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