It's back

So what exactly pissed me off that I couldn't keep it written down in my blog. A library patron pissed me off. What royally ticked me off is that now I'm questioning and doubting my intelligence and knowledge every time I step up to the reference desk and work. I don't like having self-doubt. I've had enough of if during my 29 years here on earth and I'm doing my absolute best to not let it rule me. His comments just set me back many many steps. The idiot.

I will come out and admit I'm not the best speller, and I don't know every definition in the dictionary. But for crying out loud, that's why I love the dictionary (the slag dictionary in particular - it's an absolute hoot). If I don't know the spelling, nor the definition, I'll look it up.

Another thing, I stopped majoring in math a long time ago. I once wanted to be a math teacher, and an accountant long ago in college. That's in the past. Don't expect me to know all math. Even math you would assume is simple. My brain has what I refer to as "information overload." Too much crap to calculate certain equations.

And, I come from Eastern Kentucky, we sometimes have our own way of talking. Get over it. We knew "ain't" was a word long before Webster ever put it in the dictionary. You don't like our grammar, then talk to someone else.

As for history, it's only been the past couple years in which history has become interesting to me. I have much to catch up on. There are days which I don't remember what I did yesterday. Give me a damn break.

So this older gentleman comes to the desk to ask a question. I've helped him before, and he seems to like to seek help from me rather than the other librarians. Don't ask me why. Maybe I'm just nice. I'm assuming he's wanting the baseball schedule for his satellite radio. Nope. He's wanting conversions. Our conversation goes something like this...

Me: You're wanting conversions?

Him: Yes. Can you convert for me 88.1 kilos into pounds?

Me: (Damn it. Math. Conversions.) Okay. Google has a website that will work conversions for us.

Him: You mean you can't do conversions?

Me: You do not want me doing math for you.

Him: I thought librarians knew everything. You can't do conversions? Well I can do conversions.

Me: Well, if you know how to do conversions, why did you ask me? (I'm quite proud of myself for saying that to him. I wasn't in the mood to put up with him on that day.)

Him: Ahh. Now don't joke with me like that.

(We go to Google for conversions and type in the correction information. He's happy with the information except he's 10 pounds overweight and plans to loose it in one week. We work his height conversion and thankfully he's smart enough to know he can't change that.)

Now he wants to test his knowlege on conversions. He's wanting to convert Fahrenheit to Celsius.

Him: Now type in 100 degrees Fahrenheit to Celsius.

Me: (At this point I reach for the dictionary because I ALWAYS have a problem with spelling Fahrenheit. ALWAYS.)

Him: What? You mean you can't spell fahrenheit? You can't spell. You can't do math. You aren't good with Language Arts (the asshole had the decency to correct my grammar. I thought only my Aunt did that?). And you don't know history. Maybe I ought to get me another librarian.

Me: (With a sweep of my hand) Be my guest, there are plenty to choose from.

Him: No I think I'll keep you. (Damn it. For a second there I thought I'd gotten rid of him.)

For a couple days, I was proud that I talked back to him. I didn't let myself become shocked at what he said. Now, I'm just pissed.