A Librarian's Primer For Combating Repugnant Expressions of Personality.
What I think of when humans be getting me down
Note: I started writing this yesterday. I finished it today. You now are aware of this fact because; transparency and such.
Today, due to the three day weekend, I was happily battling an overflowing book drop in the back room when I observed an interchange between two library employees that gave me pause. A person in a position of authority went out of their way to point out a recently expired advertisement for a program on the front door. You may be thinking, why would this action bother me? Well, it all has to do with intent and delivery my friends.
The person that the administrator scolded is being placed in a position of authority within our organization. The administrator wasn't interested in accuracy, rather they were asserting dominancy through a verbal assertion of the superiority of their own position in the organization to the upward moving underling. How do I know this? The program took place on Saturday. The library hasn't been open since Saturday, and oh yes, the library wasn't due to open for three more hours. We hadn't even got to the opening procedures for the day.
Also, the admonition was delivered with all the subtlety of cotton candy covered coal bouncing off of the side of a brick wall.
I might have been in the back room smiling like the observant dolt that I am, for I care not for position jockeying. I care about the people behind the expressions of feeling, and in this case I wondered about what latent insecurities might be festering inside that creature in a position of authority. I was also simultaneously wondering what the green substance was on the front of The Butter Battle by Dr. Seuss. It wasn't butter, of that I was sure.
These musings got me to to thinking about some of my other favorite negative expressions of human personality that I have beheld during my tenure at the library:
First notable observation
Heat combined with obnoxious singing off key while wearing headphones next to a cantankerous elderly internet user equals name calling.
One summer it was well over the triple digit mark on the thermometer, and two of our regular internet-using patrons had blessed us with their presence. I was engaged in some book surgery and noticed that they were sitting next to each other. This immediately caused me discomfort. One patron is a very volatile creature, you never know what manifestation of her that you are going to get. Usually an angry manifestation, although she does a really good dry disdain. It's a crap-shoot as far as behavioral probability goes.
The reason for my not mild panic had to do with their proximity to one another. Every other computer in the library was empty, yet she plunked down next to a man that doesn't need to wear an I'm an introvert t-shirt. He is the campaign. As I continued my application of binding tape I became aware of some animal in distress. I mean, it sounded like a jackal in a trash compactor. I drifted toward the sound in an ear-clutching agony only to observe introvert, internet man telling the Not The Next American Idol to shut it. Hmm. I looked at my manager, with a raised eye, and before we could intervene, the karaoke queen started singing again. Loudly. Que the curse words.
I jumped right into the fray, manager with me. I quickly explained to the chanteuse that singing was for on stage and in the shower, and it was not to be conducted in the library at the top of one's off key lungs. Simultaneously, my boss was giving Mr. Introvert a very old fashioned lecture about how one should speak to another human being. Apparently the C U Next Tuesday word was not appropriate. Our intervention fell upon deaf ears, and the scenario ended with stomping, storming, cussing, and yes, me laughing.
Why laughing, because everyone gets angry, but the only person you are throwing a fit for when you are mad is yourself. Look at me! I can outdo you! And so forth. Walk away, Scout!
Second Notable Observation
The Undesired Exhibitionist:
When someone hurls an image at your cortex that you wish to never see in the first place.
I'm sure that we all like recognition and to be looked at. A lot of us have probably showed off some attribute of ourselves at some point. A large weight loss. A new tattoo or hair style. Perhaps a new outfit. There are also the things that we have seen that we wish we had not. I'm thinking of a very pimply, hair posterior that I had stuck in my field of vision for three very long hours on a flight to Seattle from Anchorage. Sometimes unpleasant visuals are unintentional or unavoidable, and this is entirely forgivable. What is of greater trespass is when a person intentionally shows you things that you never want to see, all in the name of being a pervert.
We had this patron that liked to refer to any woman as "Sweetheart". As he was older, we tended to overlook his too familiar of greetings. What was harder to ignore was his requests for printer help. Anytime I need a pick me up in the mirth department, I just have to recall the time that he called my boss over for some "printer help." The look on her prim and proper face when she beheld a picture of the elderly gent in nothing but his tightey whiteys is firmly cemented in the hilarity inducing part of my cortex. My "printer help" moment was an image of a scantily clad young Asian woman. I calmly asked the exhibitionist if the young lady in question was his grand-daughter and flounced away in my generally unflappable way.
You see, I grew up around a most vile, un-censoring, vulgarity expressing subsection of society. I dwelled in the company of loggers, fisherman, drug dealers, and prostitutes. There is one recent incident that I can recall that best describes my demeanor: One time I was systematically dismantling a Kalua roasted pig, and one kid in his twenties was gaping at my calm removal of vertebrae and brain matter.
"Nothing much phases you, does it?" he queried.
I had never thought about this concept, but replied in all sincerity:
"No, not much does."
I tend to be more amused by human behavior, as I am naturally inquisitive and seriously lacking in the judgmental department. It is not that I don't have morals, in fact, I have a very rigid set that I adhere too. My outlook on other people's behavioral life choices is that it is not my business to tell them how to live.
That said, we have arrived at my final personality trait of annoyance for the evening:
Third Notable Observation
The Harbinger Of Discomfort
A personage who's sole reason for existence is to make lesser (so they believe) mortals squirm
We have a patron, a giant of a man, that loves to make people uncomfortable. He is mostly inebriated any time he makes an entrance, and it is my firm belief that he feels he is performing in his own version of The Truman Show. I am sure that when one feels that they always have an audience that they have to perform.
I can never truly determine what kind of behavior that I will see out of this man, but I do know that if anyone shows any shred of personal discomfort; he will pounce on that individual like a cheetah on an ailing gazelle.
The best tactic to utilize with the Harbinger of Discomfort is to overwhelm them while employing their own techniques. I usually seek to make people comfortable, but I have to admit I enjoy overwhelming this man with exemplary customer service while flinging every manner of nonsensical and sensible data in his direction. I take everything that he says and hurl it back, while upping the cognitive detail one hundred fold. Our exchanges usually end with me smiling and wishing him a good evening and him staggering toward the door looking a touch shell-shocked.
Did I mention that I love my job?
In closing, I know that we have all encountered at least one of these negative personality manifestations. We might even exhibit them in our interactions with others; Lord knows that I have flaws. However, self-awareness of our jerk tendencies is a sign of maturity, and maybe, just maybe because of this sharing of my observations, perhaps there could be a little growth on the personality front somewhere. One can hope and dream.
The picture used in this post was taken on the author's husband's Mexican sand encrusted iPhone.
Written with StackEdit.