Good kids are hard to find, so keep looking!

Sorry about not posting lately, but after I got back from the Holy Land (a.k.a. Disneyland) things got pretty busy. By the way, photos and stories will be uploaded soon, I promise!

However I had to post this. Last week the library I work at had a class visit. For those of you who do not speak libraryese, what this means is that a classroom of children made a visit to the library.

This time it was a class of second grade kids, so ages about 7 or so. This is an important fact, okay? The kids had a blast, we did a mini-storytime for them, showed them all around the library, and answered any questions that they might have.

One young kid, we will call him Tyler (and, Asian Eddie, it is _not_ that Tyler either, this is a younger version) was asking questions of a coworker of mine, who was already wrangling three other children. So I stepped in. He wanted books on how to speak German, and I thought he was a neat kid... not many want to learn another language at 7. I showed him where the books to learn German were, as well as books on tape and cd, so that he could listen to the sounds of the words. He was really enthusiastic. Then he asked for books about Europe. I showed him the section, and that is when he opened up.

He was so happy, and said that he was German, and wanted to see pictures of where his family came from. Out of all the kids who were running around throwing books around, I got the one kid who really wanted to learn. It was awesome! So I said that I am Irish. His smile got bigger and said that his grandmother was Irish, but the rest of his family was German.

When I asked if he was going to go to Germany sometime for a vacation, he somberly replied, "When I am an adult." This kid was acting so politely, and so mature, I really was impressed by him, and how he was being raised by his family.

But you know what? NEVER EVER make assumptions!!! I forgot that bit of wisdom!

Because next the kid, about 7 remember... told me that if the "coloreds" kept taking over America, he was going to move to Europe.

I was so freaking shocked by the little Nazi, I went in back, and told a co-worker. She took a look outside the door and said the kid had been snotty to her.

On his way out, he stopped, and tanked me for all the help I had given him, and said that if I wanted to know, his name was Tyler. Another coworker of mine, who had heard the tale by that time, said "I guess he can tell you his name, since you are white."

He's seven... and already has attitudes like that. Just shoot the parents.

Child of Satan found in library...

Ok, my friend, Queen of Dysfunction, posted a blog on Tuesday detailing the trials and tribulations of children. The blog ended with a story about some hooker illegally parked in a handicapped space getting in her face for disciplining her child with a light swat.

ARGH! I just had to post after reading that blog.

A while back a couple came into my library. With... a child. The kid was out of control. Seriously, I think the the kid has the number 666 imprinted on the back of his neck or something.

I was happy when they walked on in, and away from me. I love kids, but some of them need a mute button, or a mute button plus a whole bunch of ductape wrapped around them.

Anywho... the parents go in, the kid runs wild for about half an hour. Then it is time to go. The parents try cajoling the child into leaving.

It does not work.

After ten minutes of mommy whining, "Come here Johnny. We need to go Johnny. Please, Johnny? Johnny, it's important we don't be late..." I was ready to hurl.

The father came up and checked out the books. He apologized for his son. The father just looked... well resigned I guess would fit.

Just after checking out this huge stack of books for their monster, the kid comes running up screaming at the top of his lungs, "I WANNA GET THE BOOKS! I WANNA GET THE BOOKS!"

The father said that he was sorry, but he had already checked the books out.

Johnny just started screaming louder (and I did not think that this was possible) "YOU FUCKER! I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU FUCKER!"

By the way, the charming little tyke was about 7 or 8 tops.

Mom came rushing up and hugged the kid. No, that is not a euphemism from smother.. it was a full-blown hug. And then said, "Johnny, we don't use bad words. Daddy is sorry he made you mad."

The father's head just dropped until his chin was practically on his chest, and closed his eyes.

In my head I was screaming WHAT THE FUCK?!?

I cannot believe that some parents think it is wrong to spank their children, but that it is okay for their kids to be just as rotten, crude, and abusive to other people as they want.


END OF RANT

Foul Demons of Stupidity... BEGONE!

I have to say that I am a stupid magnet. I am also a freak magnet, psycho magnet, and a loser magnet as well, but right now lets just talk about the demons of stupidity that seem to be drawn to me.

My ex-boss, who still cannot comprehend why he was fired, still comes in to the library where I work. He still sends e-mails to my work e-mail account. Both of those are mildly annoying. However he comes in or e-mails to tell me what to do. I keep wanting to ask him what part of being fired did he not get? Well now he has started sending me e-mails ordering me to tell *my new boss* what to do. I'm sure I will rant about him at another time, but there is more.

Libraries should attract smart people, but they don't. Today I was stuck training a new employee for six hours. Have you ever seen the movie "Clueless"?? Well this guy is the retired geriatric male counterpart to most of the teens in that movie. He has had FOUR WEEKS of training so far, before he got to my branch for additional training. I swear someone is out to get me.

He's a nice old man who is near the end of his life. Or I hope he is... really he does not have much to look forward to. It took three hours to teach him how to sign people up for the computers. *NOT* to assign them a computer... just to sign them up. The process is, I admit very confusing, and I am sure that I was explaining it in very technical terms. "Bill, just write down their first name, and the initial of their last name." EVERY freakin time someone came up to sign up for the waiting list, he would say "You will have to wait a moment, I have not been trained in that." I would then go ahead and go through it again... "First name, Bill! Last initial!." In the three hours we were signing up, we had 65 people sign up for the computer. I had to correct him each time, or show him how to do it... again. 65... I counted. It was on person 66 that he started to realize what first name, and last initial meant.

Friends if I get that bad, kill me. Put me out of my misery. You can even do something creative and sell the video on E-bay. Seriously... If I am flat-lining that much, I doubt I would notice a thing anyway!

And finally, the one that takes the cake! I saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix this weekend at a local theatre. And at the concession stand was a young man who needs to be neutered before he reproduces. We'll call him Jeremy.

Jeremy: Can I help you?

Me: Yes, we have a coupon for a free small soda, and I would like a blue rasberry icee.

Jeremy: I'm sorry but the only icee machine we have working now is blue rasberry.

Me: [blink]

Jeremy: Would you like one of those?

Me: Yes.

Jeremy provides an icee that is more liquidy than a soda, and I mention that it is way too watery.

Jeremy: It is?

Me: [dunking my finger in it and swishing it around] Yep. Feels that way. We will just take the small soda, and instead of an icee, a large water.

Jeremy: Ok. What type of soda do you want?

Me: [first consulting with my friend who the drink was for] Coke.

Jeremy proceeds to WASH OUT THE FREAKING CUP that the blue rasbery water was in, and then fills it up. With sprite.

Me: Uhm, we wanted coke.

Jeremy: Yes [hands me the sprite and then goes off to get me a large water]

Me: Jeremy, this is sprite.

Jeremy: Didn't you want a coke?

Me: Yes

Jeremy: Then why are you asking for sprite?

Me: I'm not, Jeremy. We want a coke. Dark brown.. fizzy... coke.

Jeremy then dumps out the blue rasberry icee cup that is filled with sprite, washes it out, and starts to put in coke.

Me: Can we have a new cup?

Jeremy: This is a new cup.

My friend, sensing my distress, tells me to forget about the new cup.

Jeremy: That will be $13.

Me: For water?!?

Jeremy: [looking at the cash register] For the icee, water, and the soda?

Me: The soda is free. Free. Means no cash needed. Coupon... you take that, but not money. And we did not take the icee because it was defective. Like a condom that I think was used sometime in the past that is affecting me right now.

Jeremy: You don't want the soda?

Another young helper stepped up, and it took about 20 seconds to get the transaction right. I asked if Jeremy was new... I was told that yes he is, he had only been there for several weeks. Several weeks???