When I arrived for work on Friday I found Mrs. C riding the desk alone and looking very harried. There were two people waiting to check out and other very needy looking patrons circling the desk, wanting computers and the like. No other staff members were present.
One of the circling patrons—a woman who while not actually lurking still gave me the impression that she was anyway—eventually realized I was an employee and nonlurked over to ask me questions. She was looking for some specific books among our c0ntract0r's manuals and had evidently been talking to Mrs. C, earlier, for she already knew that one of the ones she wanted was already checked out. She asked me about two others she would need to take her license test. As Mrs. C was still very busy with the computer, I chose to show the woman where we kept the manuals so she could check for herself.
A few minutes passed and the other needy patrons cleared out and, emergency rush abated, Mrs. C left for lunch. Soon, though, Mrs. NonLurker came to the desk bearing our state's primary c0ntrac0r's reference manual, which she wanted to check out.
"I probably have fines on my card, though, so I'll need to take care of those," Mrs. NonLurker warned. Of course, she didn't have her card on her and claimed not to have seen it in many a moon. So I agreed to sell her a new card and asked for her license as proof of identity. I brought up her account and noted that while she did have fines, they were with Town-C's library for a book she'd had out since 2005. She claimed it had been her son's and she would have him find it and return it as soon as possible. I forged on, noting next that her patron record also had two different patron barcodes already. This is not allowed under our consortium's policy and either meant she'd tried to get a new card in the past and someone screwed up when replacing the original barcode, or she'd somehow sweet talked her way into getting a second card without replacing the first. (My reasoning for thinking this will soon be clear.)
Now, I should have told her right off that she couldn't check anything out from us until she took care of the lost book from Town-C, but it was a kid's book and it seemed likely that her son probably still had it. Her address on her license was different than the one on the patron record, (as was the state her license was issued from, as I would later notice), so it made sense that she might not have received an overdue notice. I deleted the other two barcodes and asked her if she wanted a wallet card or a key card.
"Both," she said.
"No. We can't do that," I said. "Has to be one or the other." She looked a bit put out about this, but didn't complain. Instead, she said she had to go to her car to get her check book in order to write us a deposit check for the manual. While she was gone, I noticed that while only one library had issued fines to her, she actually had two books checked out. The other book, checked out from Town-F in January of 2005, was a copy of the very same c0ntract0r's reference manual she was now trying to borrow from us. When she returned, I pointed this out.
"What? No, no. I returned that one. I had borrowed it for my husband to take his test, but I brought it back."
I found this to be very unlikely, but stranger things have happened. Regardless, she was a bad credit risk for deposit books and so I told her we would not be able to check anything out to her until she'd cleared this matter up with Town-F.
She whipped out her cell phone and gave them a call. From her end of the conversation with the person who answered at Town-F, Mrs. NonLurker claimed that she had brought the manual back on time and even recalled picking up her deposit check in the process. She asked if there was any way for Town-F to confirm this. The person at Town-F was, evidently, the equivallent of a newbie greenhorn and could neither find the book on their shelves nor any evidence of a deposit check. Furthermore, none of their actual librarians was present, nor would they be until Tuesday. Mrs. NonLurker calmly explained that she was scheduled to take the test on Monday and really needed the book. She even offered to come and put down a new deposit on the book at Town-F—even though she had allegedly already returned their copy—and then offered to pay for it outright, in order to borrow ours. The newbie at Town-F could not authorize such a transaction nor had any idea what to do at all and told Mrs. NonLurker that she would have to wait until Tuesday.
I fully expected a patron meltdown at this, but Mrs. NonLurker hardly seemed to mind. Instead, she continued to calmly plead her case, pointing out that she was supposed to take her test on Monday and needed the book before then. Every time she made a new suggestion for how to proceed, she would look up at me with hopeful eyes, as though waiting for me to acquiesce when I heard one I liked. I shook my head with each new suggestion. Eventually, she told Town-F that she would need to call them back about it and hung up.
She gave it one last try with me to see if there was any way we could let her check out the book. She offered to put up the full dollar amount of the book up for deposit, but because that's actually standar policy with this particular c0ntract0r's book, this didn't help her cause. I told her in no uncertain terms she was not getting our book until her record was cleared with Town-F and Town-C. Again, I expected rage from her, but she just shrugged, collected her purse and phone, thanked me for my time and nonlurked on outside. The then spent the next half hour actually lurking around our picnic table, talking on her phone. I kept expecting her to return with new and more outlandish suggestions for ways around the rules, but other than a quick pop back to tell us she'd just take it up with Town-F next week, we saw no more of her.
When Mrs. C returned, I told her what had happened and she thanked me for refusing the checkout. She also phoned Town-F up to make sure our understanding of the situation was correct. Mrs. C told me to load up Mrs. NonLurker's patron record with manual blocks and notes to all other libraries (and to our newbie greenhorns, in case she came back over the weekend and tried the same trick again) not to circulate to her until the fines and overdues were cleared up. While I was doing this, I noticed her drivers license number on file was from another state entirely and not the state on the license she'd presented earlier. Unfortunately, I'd not updated those numbers, nor her contact information, so we're a bit out of luck on that front.
Showing posts with label Deposit books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deposit books. Show all posts
Monday, April 16, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
"Deposit One Brain" (L is for Lazy Week: Day 1)
One day, a couple weeks back, my boss Mrs. A was scheduled to be in meetings in her office for most of the day. Likewise, Mrs. C had pressing business to take care of via phone and Mrs. B needed to process the backlog of book donations for our booksale. When Ms. S arrived, she was told she would need to work the desk to free everyone else up for their tasks. Almost immediately upon clocking in, though, she fled the desk for the nonfiction shelves to "read" the sections she's responsible for keeping in order. (And I shudder at the thought tht I may one day be sent to check her work.)
Mrs. C sent Mrs. B to drag Ms. S back to the desk and repeated to her that she was to stay there. Everyone then went to their tasks, some close by, some far off, and left Ms. S to it.
Shortly after this, the wife of one of the warring parties in our ongoing battle for the c0ntract0r's manuals came in to inquire about their status. The wife mentioned to Ms. S that she'd phoned about them earlier in the day. Ms. S, who lives in fear of our deposit books, because they are a hassle and require attention to detail, immediately denied all knowledge of anything this lady might or might not have been told about the books and tried desperately to weasel out of having to deal with the situation by pleading ignorance to Mrs. C. Mrs. C, who was by then very much on the phone in the midst of her business, indicated, using her eyebrows alone, that she would, in fact, slaughter Ms. S if she didn't go deal with the situation and answer the wife's question, which was merely to see if we had any of the deposit books on hand that she wanted. As it turned out, we didn't have all of them, but it took a long time for Ms. S to determine this because she kept nervously and unsuccessfully trying to check the computer for them rather than simply walking to the shelf and having a gander. Mrs. C had to put her call on hold for a moment to alert Ms. S to this shortcut, at which point Ms. S finally went and retrieved the books we did have on hand.
That done, Ms. S still seemed at a complete loss as to how to tell which books among those required for the c0ntract0r's exam were currently checked out and not in the stack she'd brought to the desk. Mrs. C finally had to put her call on hold again, drag Ms. S over to the c0ntract0r's manuals MANUAL (hanging exactly where it always is, right where Ms. S has been told it can be found at least twice before), then show her how to turn to the big obvious bookmarked page to find the list of required books for the c0ntract0r's exam, and show her how to read the spines of the stack of books there on the desk, comparing them against those listed in the manual to see which one's weren't present. Ms. S still screwed it up, declaring to the patron that we didn't have the very book that was sitting RIGHT THERE on the top of the stack--a book, I might add, that Mrs. C had JUST used as an example to show Ms. S how to do the job.
Mrs. B walked back into the room then, prompting Ms. S to gratefully explain to her patron that Mrs. B had been the employee to whom she'd spoken on the phone ealier. Then Ms. S tried to make a break for the nonfiction room in order to ditch the whole matter in Mrs. B's lap.
Mrs. C again had to put her call on hold and explain to Ms. S that she would not be escaping her duty and that she would be the person who to finish the transaction.
Upon hearing this tale recounted, I suggested that we need to get Ms. S her own Unobstructed Doors aid on the grounds that she's clearly retarded.
Mrs. C sent Mrs. B to drag Ms. S back to the desk and repeated to her that she was to stay there. Everyone then went to their tasks, some close by, some far off, and left Ms. S to it.
Shortly after this, the wife of one of the warring parties in our ongoing battle for the c0ntract0r's manuals came in to inquire about their status. The wife mentioned to Ms. S that she'd phoned about them earlier in the day. Ms. S, who lives in fear of our deposit books, because they are a hassle and require attention to detail, immediately denied all knowledge of anything this lady might or might not have been told about the books and tried desperately to weasel out of having to deal with the situation by pleading ignorance to Mrs. C. Mrs. C, who was by then very much on the phone in the midst of her business, indicated, using her eyebrows alone, that she would, in fact, slaughter Ms. S if she didn't go deal with the situation and answer the wife's question, which was merely to see if we had any of the deposit books on hand that she wanted. As it turned out, we didn't have all of them, but it took a long time for Ms. S to determine this because she kept nervously and unsuccessfully trying to check the computer for them rather than simply walking to the shelf and having a gander. Mrs. C had to put her call on hold for a moment to alert Ms. S to this shortcut, at which point Ms. S finally went and retrieved the books we did have on hand.
That done, Ms. S still seemed at a complete loss as to how to tell which books among those required for the c0ntract0r's exam were currently checked out and not in the stack she'd brought to the desk. Mrs. C finally had to put her call on hold again, drag Ms. S over to the c0ntract0r's manuals MANUAL (hanging exactly where it always is, right where Ms. S has been told it can be found at least twice before), then show her how to turn to the big obvious bookmarked page to find the list of required books for the c0ntract0r's exam, and show her how to read the spines of the stack of books there on the desk, comparing them against those listed in the manual to see which one's weren't present. Ms. S still screwed it up, declaring to the patron that we didn't have the very book that was sitting RIGHT THERE on the top of the stack--a book, I might add, that Mrs. C had JUST used as an example to show Ms. S how to do the job.
Mrs. B walked back into the room then, prompting Ms. S to gratefully explain to her patron that Mrs. B had been the employee to whom she'd spoken on the phone ealier. Then Ms. S tried to make a break for the nonfiction room in order to ditch the whole matter in Mrs. B's lap.
Mrs. C again had to put her call on hold and explain to Ms. S that she would not be escaping her duty and that she would be the person who to finish the transaction.
Upon hearing this tale recounted, I suggested that we need to get Ms. S her own Unobstructed Doors aid on the grounds that she's clearly retarded.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Evil Incarnate Update
Interesting news today on the Deposit Book Crowd.
When I got in this morning, I suggested to Mrs. A that she hotfoot it down to the bank to cash the checks of Mr. and Mrs. Deadbeat, the Deposit Book felons she'd talked to on Tuesday, before they had time to put a stop on their checks. Mrs. A didn't think it was likely that they would, as it usually costs $20 to do such a stop. I said, it would be cheaper for them to spend $40 to stop two checks than to allow the full $300 value of those checks to hit their account. Then they would have our books and we wouldn't have funds to replace them.
"True," Mrs. A said. "I'm actually considering just calling them back and telling them they can have their checks back if they'll just return the books, and that they'll be banned from using our library afterwards."
Hmm. Sounded win-win to me. After all, we don't really want their money; we want our books back. The money is just there as added incentive for them to return the books. It's just that Deposit Book Crowd people NEVER want to jump through our hoops.
Before any action could be taken, though, we got a call from Mrs. D, the librarian at the nearest library to the Deadbeats. It seems Mrs. Deadbeat had dropped off three of the five books and Mrs. D was popping them in the mail to us even as she spoke. An hour later, Mrs. D called back to say she'd phoned Mrs. Deadbeat and told her they needed the other two books as well and Mrs. Deadbeat agreed to bring them in too.
Will wonders never cease!
When I got in this morning, I suggested to Mrs. A that she hotfoot it down to the bank to cash the checks of Mr. and Mrs. Deadbeat, the Deposit Book felons she'd talked to on Tuesday, before they had time to put a stop on their checks. Mrs. A didn't think it was likely that they would, as it usually costs $20 to do such a stop. I said, it would be cheaper for them to spend $40 to stop two checks than to allow the full $300 value of those checks to hit their account. Then they would have our books and we wouldn't have funds to replace them.
"True," Mrs. A said. "I'm actually considering just calling them back and telling them they can have their checks back if they'll just return the books, and that they'll be banned from using our library afterwards."
Hmm. Sounded win-win to me. After all, we don't really want their money; we want our books back. The money is just there as added incentive for them to return the books. It's just that Deposit Book Crowd people NEVER want to jump through our hoops.
Before any action could be taken, though, we got a call from Mrs. D, the librarian at the nearest library to the Deadbeats. It seems Mrs. Deadbeat had dropped off three of the five books and Mrs. D was popping them in the mail to us even as she spoke. An hour later, Mrs. D called back to say she'd phoned Mrs. Deadbeat and told her they needed the other two books as well and Mrs. Deadbeat agreed to bring them in too.
Will wonders never cease!
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
Evil Incarnate
The "liberry" was rather chaotic today. It usually is when I'm not even supposed to be there.
At 11 a.m., Mrs. A called me at home to ask me to come in as Mrs. B was unable to get up her mountainous driveway due to the torrent of ice and snow we got Monday night. I can't make fun. We had our own similar driveway adventures this morning and the only reason I was able to get out and go to work was because I spent my morning shoveling the drive.
In addition to the usual stuff, we were inundated with Deposit Book Crowd people desperate to check out our deposit books.
Let me just say this about the deposit books: I hate them, I can't stand them and I wouldn't live next to them. They are probably the worst part of my job simply because you're never going to find a more despicable bunch of human beings than most of the folks who come in to check out the deposit books. (Oh, sure, you'll have your occasional Hitler or Pol Pot crop up and blow the grade curve for everyone else, but you can bet that even those assholes had a few overdue deposit books stashed in a bunker somewhere.)
On paper, our deposit books are a great idea. Most of them are of the sort designed to help people study for state licensing exams and the most popular are the ones needed for the WV Contractor's Licensing exam. So as a service to the public, we try to keep the books in stock so that people who wish to take a given exam can come in, borrow the books, study up for it, then take the books in to the open book exam for the license, hopefully pass it and ideally bring our books back. This method keeps the average Joe who wants to become a licensed contractor from having to buy $1000 worth of books just to pass the test. Unfortunately, it means that WE DO. Multiple times! Keeping our deposit books circulating is one of the hugest hassles you'd ever care to deal with--which is why I don't.
For one thing, the Deposit Book Crowd tend to be folks who normally wouldn't be found dead in a library and have only come in because we have what they want. They don't usually grok the whole "You need to have a library card before we can loan you any books" thing. And they get especially testy when we ask them to leave a deposit on the deposit book they want. After all, "liberry books is supposed to be free." They give you all manner of excuses and dirty looks as you explain to them that leaving a deposit means they do have to leave some form of money with us in order to borrow the book, but that they get that money back in full provided they BRING THE #$%*ING BOOK BACK on time!
Sure, they only get a week's loan on the deposit books, but they're allowed to renew it for another should they need to, and over the phone, no less! This is too much trouble for the Deposit Book Crowd.
I've often wondered why exactly many of them refuse to ever bring back our Deposit books. Perhaps it starts when they fail to pass the OPEN BOOK test they're preparing for in the first place and decide to hang on to them so they can bone up for next time. Maybe they're just evil, evil people. Whatever the case, the books don't get returned with near the frequency we'd like. And this is why the deposit system was implemented some years ago.
Our original policy was to charge a $10 deposit on each Deposit Book. The library's logic was that people will want to get their $10 back, so they'll return the book on time. The patrons' logic, however, was, "Get me, I just paid ten bucks for a $60 book. Huzzah!" And they weren't shy about telling us that either. During my early months at the liberry, patrons who checked out deposit books, balking at the need for a deposit in the first place, would frequently smile and say, "Oh, so I'm just paying $10 for the book then?"
"No," I would correct them, "you are leaving a $10 deposit on the book. If you don't return the book, it then becomes a stolen book and stealing is still a felony in this state." (Okay, so it may only be a misdemeanor unless the book is worth over $500. Saying such things still tends to make mouthy patrons shut their pie holes toot sweet.)
With Deposit Book Crowd bad attitudes firmly in place, the number of books that failed to turn up by the due date, or at all, steadily increased.
Last year we replaced the whole lot. We purchased brand new recent editions of nearly everything. We also installed a new deposit policy whereby if a Deposit Book Crowd patron wishes to check a deposit book out, they must leave a deposit equal to the full cost of the book. That way, when they don't turn up with it by the due date, they've essentially bought it and we have money to buy new books with.
Good idea, no?
And you'd think that this sort of policy would work pretty good, wouldn't you?
Of course not.
Witness, as example, the semi-paraphrased telephone conversation between Mrs. A and two of the Deposit Book Crowd patrons this afternoon...
Mrs. A--Hi, Mrs. Deadbeat? Mrs. A from the library. I just wanted to call to ask if you could please return the WV Contractors books that your husband checked out from us a while back.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- Oh, he still has them?
Mrs. A-- Yes ma'am, he does. I've talked to the librarian in your county and she's agreed to let you drop them off there, if it would be more convenient for you. We really need them back because we have patrons who need them for their exam.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- Okay. How do I get my check then?
(beat)
Mrs. A-- No, Mrs. Deadbeat. I don't think you understand. You've already forfeited your deposit on these books.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- Do whuut?
Mrs. A-- Yes ma'am. If you don't bring the books back on time your deposit is forfeit. We have a slip of paper that your husband signed saying that he understood this.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- But we renewed them books.
Mrs. A-- Yes ma'am. You did renew them once, back in October. It's now February.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- But we renewed them books.
Mrs. A-- You can only renew them one time ma'am. Your husband renewed them for an additional week in October and he didn't bring them back.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- But we renewed them books. Wait, lemme put my husband on the phone...
etc, etc. etc.
We'll never see those books again. And unless Mrs. A gets to the bank super quick before Mr. and Mrs. Deadbeat get a chance to have their check canceled, if they've not already, we'll never see money out of it either.
At 11 a.m., Mrs. A called me at home to ask me to come in as Mrs. B was unable to get up her mountainous driveway due to the torrent of ice and snow we got Monday night. I can't make fun. We had our own similar driveway adventures this morning and the only reason I was able to get out and go to work was because I spent my morning shoveling the drive.
In addition to the usual stuff, we were inundated with Deposit Book Crowd people desperate to check out our deposit books.
Let me just say this about the deposit books: I hate them, I can't stand them and I wouldn't live next to them. They are probably the worst part of my job simply because you're never going to find a more despicable bunch of human beings than most of the folks who come in to check out the deposit books. (Oh, sure, you'll have your occasional Hitler or Pol Pot crop up and blow the grade curve for everyone else, but you can bet that even those assholes had a few overdue deposit books stashed in a bunker somewhere.)
On paper, our deposit books are a great idea. Most of them are of the sort designed to help people study for state licensing exams and the most popular are the ones needed for the WV Contractor's Licensing exam. So as a service to the public, we try to keep the books in stock so that people who wish to take a given exam can come in, borrow the books, study up for it, then take the books in to the open book exam for the license, hopefully pass it and ideally bring our books back. This method keeps the average Joe who wants to become a licensed contractor from having to buy $1000 worth of books just to pass the test. Unfortunately, it means that WE DO. Multiple times! Keeping our deposit books circulating is one of the hugest hassles you'd ever care to deal with--which is why I don't.
For one thing, the Deposit Book Crowd tend to be folks who normally wouldn't be found dead in a library and have only come in because we have what they want. They don't usually grok the whole "You need to have a library card before we can loan you any books" thing. And they get especially testy when we ask them to leave a deposit on the deposit book they want. After all, "liberry books is supposed to be free." They give you all manner of excuses and dirty looks as you explain to them that leaving a deposit means they do have to leave some form of money with us in order to borrow the book, but that they get that money back in full provided they BRING THE #$%*ING BOOK BACK on time!
Sure, they only get a week's loan on the deposit books, but they're allowed to renew it for another should they need to, and over the phone, no less! This is too much trouble for the Deposit Book Crowd.
I've often wondered why exactly many of them refuse to ever bring back our Deposit books. Perhaps it starts when they fail to pass the OPEN BOOK test they're preparing for in the first place and decide to hang on to them so they can bone up for next time. Maybe they're just evil, evil people. Whatever the case, the books don't get returned with near the frequency we'd like. And this is why the deposit system was implemented some years ago.
Our original policy was to charge a $10 deposit on each Deposit Book. The library's logic was that people will want to get their $10 back, so they'll return the book on time. The patrons' logic, however, was, "Get me, I just paid ten bucks for a $60 book. Huzzah!" And they weren't shy about telling us that either. During my early months at the liberry, patrons who checked out deposit books, balking at the need for a deposit in the first place, would frequently smile and say, "Oh, so I'm just paying $10 for the book then?"
"No," I would correct them, "you are leaving a $10 deposit on the book. If you don't return the book, it then becomes a stolen book and stealing is still a felony in this state." (Okay, so it may only be a misdemeanor unless the book is worth over $500. Saying such things still tends to make mouthy patrons shut their pie holes toot sweet.)
With Deposit Book Crowd bad attitudes firmly in place, the number of books that failed to turn up by the due date, or at all, steadily increased.
Last year we replaced the whole lot. We purchased brand new recent editions of nearly everything. We also installed a new deposit policy whereby if a Deposit Book Crowd patron wishes to check a deposit book out, they must leave a deposit equal to the full cost of the book. That way, when they don't turn up with it by the due date, they've essentially bought it and we have money to buy new books with.
Good idea, no?
And you'd think that this sort of policy would work pretty good, wouldn't you?
Of course not.
Witness, as example, the semi-paraphrased telephone conversation between Mrs. A and two of the Deposit Book Crowd patrons this afternoon...
Mrs. A--Hi, Mrs. Deadbeat? Mrs. A from the library. I just wanted to call to ask if you could please return the WV Contractors books that your husband checked out from us a while back.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- Oh, he still has them?
Mrs. A-- Yes ma'am, he does. I've talked to the librarian in your county and she's agreed to let you drop them off there, if it would be more convenient for you. We really need them back because we have patrons who need them for their exam.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- Okay. How do I get my check then?
(beat)
Mrs. A-- No, Mrs. Deadbeat. I don't think you understand. You've already forfeited your deposit on these books.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- Do whuut?
Mrs. A-- Yes ma'am. If you don't bring the books back on time your deposit is forfeit. We have a slip of paper that your husband signed saying that he understood this.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- But we renewed them books.
Mrs. A-- Yes ma'am. You did renew them once, back in October. It's now February.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- But we renewed them books.
Mrs. A-- You can only renew them one time ma'am. Your husband renewed them for an additional week in October and he didn't bring them back.
Mrs. Deadbeat-- But we renewed them books. Wait, lemme put my husband on the phone...
etc, etc. etc.
We'll never see those books again. And unless Mrs. A gets to the bank super quick before Mr. and Mrs. Deadbeat get a chance to have their check canceled, if they've not already, we'll never see money out of it either.
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