Sunday, February 08, 2004

Long Lost Tales of Mrs. Carol Satan

Well, it looks like we're still waiting for news about the ongoing laptop/bladderboy drama. I do have a leftover bit of liberry-related news from earlier in the week.

On Wednesday, Mrs. C handed me a Danielle Steele book with one of our hold-bin Post-its adhered to its cover. Whose name should I find on said Post-it that of Mrs. Carol Satan's.

"You wanna call her?" Mrs. C asked with a grin.

"Yes I do!" I said with evil glee. I did indeed want to be the one to phone Mrs. Carol Satan up to tell her we had a book on hold for her. After delivering that news, I planned to politely add: "Oh, and by the way, Mrs. Satan, if you don't mind, would you please confirm for me that today is in fact February 4th? You see, I'd like to avoid any unpleasantness that might result from further confusion on your part as to the exact day we called your hideous, stanky gorgon ass."

That's what I would have WANTED to say, at least. I might have even come within spitting distance of such phrasing too, but Mrs. Carol Satan's phone was busy when I dialed. And it remained busy for the next three hours, with each member of the liberry staff taking turns calling, because no one wanted to let me have all the fun by myself.

While we were playing phone tag with the devil, Mrs. A came downstairs and laughed when she heard what we were up to. She then surprised us by telling a heretofore untold tale concerning the very object of our ire.

It seems several years ago, our library had another male employee (we're a rare breed, I tells ya) who I shall call Mr. Jay. One day, back then, Mrs. A was at the front desk when Mrs. Carol Satan appeared in a whiff of brimstone to pick up a book on hold. After picking it up, Mrs. Carol Satan leaned over the desk and loudly announced that one of the library employees was stalking her.

"Stalking you?" Mrs. A asked.

"Yes. He keeps calling me. I have caller ID and I can see that the man who works here has been calling me."

"Carol, he's been calling you about a book," Mrs. A said.

"Oh, no. He isn't calling about a book. He's calling me to harrass me on the phone."

About this time, Mr. Jay, who'd heard all of this from the other room, steps in, walks right up to Mrs. Carol Satan and said, "Lady, I wouldn't call you if you were the last woman on Earth!"

We laughed at this and I made a note to thank Mr. Jay, who is still a patron of ours, the next time he comes in.

We also decided that it would be a good idea if we documented in exact detail the number of times Mrs. Carol Satan's phone was busy on any given day so that we could shove it in her face when she came in to bitch about not getting a call. Before we could put this plan into action, though, Mrs. C dialed and got an answer.

I'm terribly disappointed in Mrs. C. She didn't come anywhere close to being even subtley rude to Mrs. Carol Satan. She just told her that she had a book on hold and that she had until February 9 to pick it up. What a wuss.

And to make matters worse, I wasn't even at work when Mrs. Carol Satan came in to pick it up the following morning. From all indications, she didn't make a big scene or even bare her fangs at Mrs. H, the liberry ass. on duty.

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An employee of a small town "liberry" chronicles his quest to remain sane while dealing with patrons who could star in a short-lived David Lynch television series.