Happenings ten years ago

This happened in my workplace.

"_______reported that a man walked past her in the adult fiction shelving and
she felt something on her coat. It was a white substance (most likely
semen). The woman could not identify the man. The back of the woman's
coat was covered with the substance as was the floor. I used the
bio-hazard kit to clean area and threw the coat away. I let _______
use the staff restroom to clean up. _______ wanted to know if she
would be reimbursed for her coat. The coat belonged to her husband who
is now deceased. ________ was visibly upset."

Things I learned while the server was being moved

Ohio is full of creatures. This state has it's weirdness, its gateways to Hell, Air Force base hangars that house aliens and whatnot, Mothman and more. Today I learned about the Loveland Frogman, who may or may not be a lizard.

This got me to thinking about my time at CML, and the day two guys came in for library cards and to use our computers for their research. While I was processing their new accounts, they started talking to me about Bigfoot, and how they were seeking its existence in Adams County. I'm sure I wrote a Live Journal post about this, but can't find it. I wrote a lot of posts about the goings on and day to day weirdness and folly at the Hilltop branch. A couple of dudes looking up Bigfoot was not an atypical event. For that place, it was quite scholarly.

Today I found out about a film called Not Your Typical Bigfoot Movie, and seriously believe these were the two guys I gave cards to. You can watch it on YouTube, and I did. Here's the link. These two are from the most unkind part of Ohio, Portsmouth, and we see their life struggles. By the end of the hour long documentary, you may not have a clearer conclusion about Bigfoot. However, for all the craziness in this world, you learn these two guys are harmless, and believe in their convictions with pure faith and clarity.

A visit and a memory

Stopped by the library to pick up my reserve of the new Murakami book, one chapter in and all is well. While there, one of the clerks, who worked with my on Sundays at the Hilltop, asked my if I missed public service.

After I laughed for about five minutes I said no. I do miss seeing the new, more popular work instead of the more academic materials I do process these days but there is no way I would trade anything now. The last few years there were rough. I was profoundly unhappy and should not have been dealing with the public in any way. My leaving was good for everyone.

Ten years ago, this happened. Here's a Live Journal entry about a typical day in the life of the Hilltop. Yes, it's more than a bit cynical and a bit hateful. Such was my life in 2004.

"Had a train wreck of a customer. She had us print up a list of the books she had checked out. Then proceeded to say that she returned about half of them last night. I looked on the shelves for one of them, it wasn't there.

She then went out into her car, a few minutes later came back with a huge tub full of books - including the one she claimed to have returned in the book drop overnight.

I overheard her talking to my supervisor. She said she clearly remembered returning one book in particular. That the book was so big that she hurt her hand on the book drop door. My supervisor looked the book up and said, "This book is a small paperback that cost $2.99."

If there was any liquid in my mouth, there would have been a spit take.

God, that was funny.

After she did her business, she asked if she could leave the tub on the check-in counter. For some reason, we did. A few minutes later an elderly customer dropped her copy of the latest Evanovich right in the tub.

I've never seen my supervisor laugh so hard.

We moved the tub off the counter after that. About an hour later, the train wreck came back, and was looking for her tub. Luckily I told her we'd moved it before her panic would set in."