a nearly satisfactory verisimilitudinous creation

Saturday Librarian 03

With apologies to the writers of A Few Good Men

Saturday Librarian: I'll answer the question. You want answers?

Patron: I think I'm entitled to them.

Saturday Librarian: You want answers?!

Patron: I want the truth!

Saturday Librarian: Look, we live in a world that has libraries and those libraries have to be staffed by people on Saturdays. Who's gonna do it? You? You, homeless person? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You ask your questions when you come in on a Saturday. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know - that working on Saturdays is tragic, and my existence here today, while taken for granted by you, truly sucks. You ask the questions because deep down when you're runnin' errands on a Saturday and you pop into the library, you want me on that reference desk. You need me on that reference desk! Librarians use words like "intellectual freedom," "privacy," "confidentiality." We use these words as the backbone of a life spent providing something. You use them as a punch line. I unfortunately have the time and the inclination to explain myself to a patron who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very intellectual freedom I provide on a Saturday and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather that you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up your smart phone and use Google. Either way, I care too damn much about what you're entitled to.

Patron: Did you want to sleep in on Saturday?

Saturday Librarian: I opened the library.

Patron: Did you want to sleep in on Saturday?

Saturday Librarian: You're goddamned right I did!