I was talking to friend Charles today and our conversation reminded me about the nine horrible months I spent working at the public library. I don’t think I’ve ever written about how illuminating that was, so what follows are three real-ass facts about your local Library.
1. You can’t be kicked out. This is kind of the reason for everything that follows, but the library is public property. It belongs to everyone. Like the sidewalk. So, whatever you do to the library, the staff, or anything on the property is totally cool because they can’t legally keep you from coming back and doing it again. The exception being if the staff calls the cops and you’re crazy or stupid enough to hang around for 30 minutes doing a blatantly illegal thing while they walk over from the station, and then keep doing it once they get there and ask you to stop, you might spend the night in jail. But you can immediately return to the Library once you get out.
2. Everything is covered in cum. You want to know what people did before the Internet? They went to the library. For everything. Your local library is a publicly funded JO palace. So, you know, if you’ve ever spunked one all over The People’s copy of The Joy of Sex, comfort yourself in the knowledge that everyone has.
3. It’s a pedo paradise. Every children’s librarian I’ve ever met has their own story about a creeper they had to repeatedly chase away from the kids (see item number one). At the same time, desperate or terrible parents will frequently leave their children completely unattended at the library while they leave to do whatever it is they feel is more important than their children’s un-raped buttholes. There is usually only one librarian in the children’s section, even while there are dozens of children running around, screaming, and tearing the books off the shelves. It’s the perfect storm.
The public library was one of the worst places I’ve ever worked. Even worse than the semi-illegal print-shop where the 65 year old owner only employed teen girls and would draw us sexually explicit racist and homophobic comics because he thought it was hilarious. Because, despite the weird vibe, he never treated my like an idiot or talked down to me. The library was a miserable pit of repetitive actions, mind-numbing bureaucracy, and me having to go outside on my break and call my friends to tell me to go back inside.
Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that I found someone jerkin it in the stacks just about every day, it would have been so much worse.