Pub-lic (puhb lik) adjective - open to all persons.
The first day I started my new job, my shiny exciting new library job, I met Sam. Sam is not his real name, but for the sake of remaining anonymous, this is what I have chosen to call him. Sam. My very first customer, at my new job, in my new part of the city.
Sam walked in on my first day, and completely ignored me. I’ll admit that I was definitely a little over keen and a little over excited and to be honest, was still a little bit unsure of the alphabet. Which is why perhaps I noticed him. I wanted so desperately to be helpful. He had confidently walked in, looked straight past me and disappeared behind the fiction shelves with four graceful strides. And as Sam strolled straight past me again, and headed out the door few minutes later, I felt a tiny pang of intrigue. What on earth did he come in for? Could he not find a book he so desperately wanted? If only he had asked me, maybe I could have been able to find that thing he’d so purposefully entered for. So I stuck my head around the corner, just to take a peek. And that’s when I saw it, laying on the carpet. A giant human poop.
A giant, shiny, glistening, radiating human poop.
My boss, who was quite used to customers that had similar desires as Sams, quickly retrieved a box and placed it over the top of the poop. He then wrote a very neat sign that said “Do not lift the box.”
I watched the box sitting on the floor for exactly two minutes before another man came over and joined me. He scratched his head and said out loud.
“Do no lift the box”
And with one quick flick of the wrist, he lifted the box.
This very first incident, taught me all I need to know about libraries and indeed life itself.
In life, there will always be some people that for whatever reason, will feel the need to poop on other peoples carpet. There are a few that will cover the poop with a box and in some cases even leave a written warning. And then there are the others. This is where I believe most of us reside. The ones that simply walk up to the box and wait for a few minutes before lifting it without apology, just to take a peek.
The first day I started my new job, my shiny exciting new library job, I met Sam. Sam is not his real name, but for the sake of remaining anonymous, this is what I have chosen to call him. Sam. My very first customer, at my new job, in my new part of the city.
Sam walked in on my first day, and completely ignored me. I’ll admit that I was definitely a little over keen and a little over excited and to be honest, was still a little bit unsure of the alphabet. Which is why perhaps I noticed him. I wanted so desperately to be helpful. He had confidently walked in, looked straight past me and disappeared behind the fiction shelves with four graceful strides. And as Sam strolled straight past me again, and headed out the door few minutes later, I felt a tiny pang of intrigue. What on earth did he come in for? Could he not find a book he so desperately wanted? If only he had asked me, maybe I could have been able to find that thing he’d so purposefully entered for. So I stuck my head around the corner, just to take a peek. And that’s when I saw it, laying on the carpet. A giant human poop.
A giant, shiny, glistening, radiating human poop.
My boss, who was quite used to customers that had similar desires as Sams, quickly retrieved a box and placed it over the top of the poop. He then wrote a very neat sign that said “Do not lift the box.”
I watched the box sitting on the floor for exactly two minutes before another man came over and joined me. He scratched his head and said out loud.
“Do no lift the box”
And with one quick flick of the wrist, he lifted the box.
This very first incident, taught me all I need to know about libraries and indeed life itself.
In life, there will always be some people that for whatever reason, will feel the need to poop on other peoples carpet. There are a few that will cover the poop with a box and in some cases even leave a written warning. And then there are the others. This is where I believe most of us reside. The ones that simply walk up to the box and wait for a few minutes before lifting it without apology, just to take a peek.
Comments
Post a Comment