I volunteer at a dead ass, local library. It's never busy, but sometimes I run into slightly odd patrons...

I used to work at the big city library, but after a random beating from an alcoholic scruffy guy who was angry I told him to take his feet off the table, I put in my two weeks and moved across town to a much smaller library. It's one of those tiny libraries that you don't see much anymore. Our entire collection can't be more than 8,000 volumes. I like it though. It's quiet. It's a classic looking library. Tall ceilings, built in wooden bookshelves. It reminds me of the library in Name of the Rose. I doubt we have more than 100 people come in on a given day. Sometimes I'll sit at the desk and not see a soul for a half hour at a time. Most of our regular patrons are young kids who want to use our two public access computers for a few minutes, or senior citizens looking to pick up a best seller. I also don't run into too many difficult patrons either, with the occasional exception of parents who don't want to pay 25 cents for their kid's late book. I've been at the small library for over five years now, and I'm familiar with almost everyone who comes in. There are exceptions though. We'll be in the middle of a very quiet morning or afternoon, and someone will walk in that I've never seen before. They're always strange. It got to the point where I'd be sitting at the desk, my back to the front door, and I could tell when this kind of person walked in. I'd feel it. My instincts would tell me to turn around, and when I did I'd see some kooky looking individual, usually dressed in clothes from a different decade. All types of dress though. Sometimes it's old school gangster clothes, sometimes hippie clothes. We've even had things like ancient Egyptian clothes or something a little more modern like cyber goth attire. Despite their weird clothes, they don't always act strangely. For instance, we'll get a lot of these people who come in looking for books about science and history. I help them the same way I'd help a normal looking person, and they'd thank me and go about their business. I don't think there's a single book in **The Library of Alexandria** that these patrons haven't asked me to look for. I'm not trying to imply they're insufferable or annoying. There's just a lot of them, and they always seem shocked that such a small library wouldn't have a copy of **On the Motion of the Great Spheres**. Often times though, these people ask for books that aren't even real. We'll get ancient texts, like fairy tales or something that only exists in folklore. We'll get futuristic sounding books. I remember one creepy young guy who asked me for a book called **Events After the Interment of Consciousness in a Vacuum Environment in Space.** I told him the book didn't seem to exist at all, and he looked at me with this cold, dead expression. He nodded and walked away. He ended up sticking around for a while, but I never saw him actually reading anything. He always sat in one of the office chairs up front, looking in my direction. I also run into a lot of people who claim that one of our librarians is helping them find books. Of course I know our librarians, and none of them will admit to helping these strange people. Usually they'll approach me at the desk and ask if Librarian A or B is working. They always use old fashioned names, like Lester or Maude. Even if we have a Lester or Maude on staff, they'll deny helping these people. These individuals always seem frustrated, and sometimes they'll accuse me of poor record keeping. They tell me that they were in the process of reading a certain book, but when they go to find the book again it has completely disappeared. I've also had people complain to me about the architecture of the library. I'll have people walk up to the desk and tell me they are positive they've been in the library before. The Main Room (we just call it that) looks different now though. It's smaller. We don't have quite the selection of books they remember. We don't have the huge wooden reading tables, or the weirdly designed clock. My favorite was the man who approached me at the desk and started talking to me like he knew me. He asked me if I remembered him from the gentleman's boxing match in 1893. I told him I wasn't alive in 1893, and he accused me of being a impudent child. A few seconds later, he had more or less passed out at the circulation desk, and I had to get two other staff members to carry him out to his coach. Finally, there's the rare occasion when someone walks in and is clearly disoriented. A lot of times they're talking to themselves, and sometimes they look like they've been wandering in the wilderness for a while. They'll approach me and ask if this is a library. They'll ask me where we're located. Sometimes, they don't seem to even know what country they're in. It's heartbreaking, because it really does appear that a lot of these people are from a different time. They'll complain about the strange glow emitted from our lamps (it's just LED, they're nice). Sometimes they won't recognize modern books. One older lady walked in wearing just a long sheet. She looked like she was straight out of ancient Greece. She walked up to the desk, looked me in the eye, and said "good afternoon slave." I work in a library, so I'm not one to take offense at things people say, but it was still a little shocking. She started asking me about the availability of some books, and I politely told her which books existed and which ones didn't. I told her that **The Republic** by Plato has been published for centuries, but that **Plato's Republic: Book Two** isn't a real book. I also told her that **The Tale of Genji** is a wonderful book that exists, but that I think she'd have trouble reading it without knowing any Japanese. I more or less went through the routine that I just described above, and then this woman just started to cry. She wept for a while, and eventually one of the other staff members made a hospital appointment for her. All in all, I enjoy working at the library. It's got a bit of a weird vibe, but I like that. I can't complain. The hours are nice, and like I said, most of the patrons are very nice. Sure, we have some weirdos walk in from time to time, but that's just a part of working in a library. I really can't complain about much. The only real drawback is that I don't have any coworkers to talk to about these strange occurrences. I've tried bringing them up with my superiors, but they always tell me I must be exaggerating or making things up. I've always been a bit of a dreamer, so I guess that's what I get. I just wish I had someone to talk to about these things.

I volunteer at a dead ass, local library. It's never busy, but sometimes I run into slightly odd patrons...

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