Another Library Observation

I went up to the community computer to print off a couple of old exams as a studying aid today. This printer is near the front desk, an area I usually avoid, because some of the front desk work-study students are a little drunk with power. I got spoken to twice within 5 minutes by one of them once. First, because I was making copies (cue Rob Schnieder) of a book with the photocopier cover open, which is - apparently - against the rules. Second, because as I was finishing up my copies, my cell phone rang. I was able to silence it before it rang a second ring, but no matter. Anyway, the lesson learned is not to hang out near the front desk, since in the corner of the library where my carrel is, we regularly talk amongst ourselves, answer our cells (and then take the conversation out in the hall), eat (heck we’ve even taking to marking our food “community” or “not community” so others don’t feel guilty), drink, and otherwise be merry. All of these things are prohibited in the library, but apparently the enforcement zone is within a few feet of that front desk.

Anyway, I’m getting off topic. While using said computer, I noticed an older man (I’m guessing late sixties) go up to the desk. He asks a question I can’t hear, but I hear the girl (woman?) at the desk respond, well, the state statutes are in that area over there. The man says something else, which I can only deduce was some type of interpretation question, because I hear the girl say, “well, I’m not sure, and we’re really not allowed to give legal advice.”

Now I can tell he’s getting upset. Since he’s facing away from me I still can’t hear his comments but hers go something like this:

“Our state’s statutes are right there.”

“I’m not sure of the answer to that question.”

“It’s a legal question, and I’m not qualified to answer it.”

“I can help you look something up if you like.”

“No, I can’t do that.”

Obviously, throughout the exchange the older guy is getting more and more agitated. He then crankily stomped away from the desk as only old men can do. As he did he repeated “where’s the book that says we have no rights? Where’s the book that says it?” over and over. I wasn’t sure if he had actually posed this question to the work-study student, or if this was just his cranky-old-man reaction to the situation (I suspect the latter). But as he stomped past me and asked the question again, our eyes met for a moment. I couldn’t resist.

“That’s a trick question, because they all say that.”