You never can tell…
When I arrive at the library today, there’s an IT class in progress in the ‘Internet cafe’. It’s a block booking until 11:30, which means that the few computers not being used by the course members can be used by the general public, as if they were on the course, because the booking can’t release single computers. But that’s all fine.
M*, the mad maths professor, comes in to use the computers as usual, and to read the paper. Then he comes and has a rant about GM foods. Once again, I have to say I don’t know enough about it to have an informed opinion.
We also have Baby Bounce and Rhyme whilst the IT class is going on. It’s run by a very cheerful volunteer, with the assistance of P*, also a volunteer. There are about 10 mums and babies there. I haven’t done a BBR session since I moved to Avonmouth library, but the rhymes are familiar — some even have extra ad libbed verses, I’m happy to hear. At the end of the session, some of the mums hang around for a chat, including one with a loud voice who tells the story of the birth of her baby and how she was sent home too early and the baby wasn’t feeding properly, so he lost 2lbs in 3 days and she had to be readmitted to the maternity ward.
I join up a new member and an existing one comes in looking for Proust’s ‘A la recherce de la temps perdu’ (‘in search of lost time’), which I order in from HQ. Another customer comments on the number of leaves in the foyer and says the sheep will soon be in to eat them, as they are roaming about outside the building (as they do in the Forest of Dean). A man with red hair and a stripey Dr Who scarf comes in and I don’t pay much attention until the owner of the local bookshop comes in to meet him and they sit on one of the sofas in the children’s section and have a chat. By asking my colleague the man’s name and searching on the Internet, I discover the man with red hair is a local councillor. I am curious about this meeting, so I make myself useful organising the children’s fiction close by, so I can overhear what they are talking about. (It doesn’t sound as interesting as I’d hoped!)
The children’s sofa — over the school halfterm break last week, it appears up to 20 kids came into the library (quite rowdy at times, I’m told) and inevitably there are a few feral youths who behave antisocially… by smearing this sofa with some kind of shit (baby or dog, I don’t want to know the details!). One of the boys is banned from the library, the other from the whole building where the library is housed — the trouble is, both boys look alike to staff, so it’s difficult for them to know which one is hanging around this afternoon. By this time a security guard has arrived and is sitting at the entrance by the Chinese Year of the Rooster display with his laptop and a handwritten sign saying ‘Security. Can I help?’ (which of course confuses everyone, since he doesn’t know anything about the library itself) and he’s armed with a “Duelling banjos” ringtone on his mobile phone. He speaks to the boy and reminds him he’s being recorded on CCTV and the boy and his friends disappear. What kind of society are we where libraries have to employ security guards to deal with children?
There’s a lot going on in the library in the next couple of weeks (comic club; music tech workshops; ‘Tastes with Tales — celebrate the humble pancake’ which I’m assured does not involve any cooking as Health & Safety wouldn’t cover it), and there are also tickets for ‘Black is the Color of my Voice’ (‘inspired by the life of Nina Simone’ and written and performed by Apphia Campbell, who has performed at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival — here’s a trailer https://youtu.be/gH9o_Kt3NM8) which sold out yesterday (although from what I hear, the venue is very small) although people are still coming in just before 5 to see if they can get tickets.
Several people come in to get bus passes a) renewed or b) issued, including someone who brings in a damaged one and leaves it with us for processing. We can’t find the person whose bus ticket it is on the system and the person who dropped it in didn’t leave a contact number. I still don’t know how to ‘do’ bus passes, so email to ask for a code to do this (of course, once I have it, no one else comes in for me to practice with!) — I have to use my printer code at this library as well.
When we leave at 5, we don’t put the alarm on, because the cubs are coming in for Chess Club this evening. It’s very satisfying to have such a varied job!
(And I must comment on a new library I worked in last week — where the heaters are raised to roof level — a Computer Club consisting of retirees came in with their tablets, and baby bounce didn’t run as there weren’t enough babies! My colleague at this library was young and wearing very short shorts over black tights. I’m sure a ‘traditional’ librarian would not approve! She is ‘in charge’ and goes of to do timetabling, leaving me to assist our customers, which is fine by me. Later in the day, her aunt and cousin came in as well as her fiance, a bin man — I have come across this several times in these libraries, where library assistants live near by. As I said earlier, you never can tell!)
