a budding romance OR i like to party

a man, tall dark and handsome, walks into the library (have you heard this one?) he's asking for Oz on dvd. i tell him we don't have it, as i am aware that we don't own any tv shows on dvd at this particular branch. then he repeats it like i am hard of hearing or maybe retarded.

guy: oz ... it was on hbo.
me: yes. i know what oz is. we don't have it here.

then he asks me if i can look at other branches for him. so i look around and it seems like the seasons he's looking for are all lost and stolen. this is what happens with popular dvds. i suggest that he go to one of our larger libraries that appears to have the dvds on the shelf.

guy: [staring at me all creepy without saying anything]
me: yeah, so ... sorry about that. you should really just try that other library.
guy: [strange blank stares]
guy: do you ever go into manhattan?
me: um ... sometimes. [fiddling with papers on my desk, knowing where this is going]
guy: yeah. they have good clubs there.
me: i guess.
guy: you go out there to party, right? [nods head in creepy fashion like he's picturing something very enjoyable in his mind]
me: eh.
guy: yeah you look like the type. you like to party.
me: hmmm.
guy: you married?
me: no, but i am in a relationship. (if only the bolshevik would make an honest woman of me)
guy: with someone?
me: yeah (no, i am in a relationship by myself. duh.)
guy: you have beautiful eyes.
me: yeah so you can just try that other library then.
guy: [more extra creepy stares]
me: [stares at computer and prays guy leaves]
guy: i guess i'll be going then
me: good luck

why? i ask you. why?

senorita dewey decimal es mi bibliotecario preferido

yesterday i had not one but TWO dad's chat me up. not in a creepy way or anything, just in a nice friendly way, but a kind of extra-friendly way that we save for people who are not ugly. know what i mean?

anyway, dad 1 was looking for a book. shocking! and i helped him find said book, and then he said something to me in spanish. the only word i caught was ojos (eyes). now, i have some pretty nice peepers, i'll admit it, but he was definitely waxing poetic because he said a hell of a lot more than just the typical ojos azules. he then informed me that the whole thing would be lost in translation, but he nonetheless brought over a spanish speaking co-worker and had her translate. it went a little somthing like this:

the beauty and purity of your eyes is a reflection of the beauty and purity of your self-esteem.

well ... isn't that a nice way of saying i have purdy eyes? i thanked him, telling him that was the nicest thing i'd heard all day (which is true). then he asked me if i was "taken," and i told him that my heart belongs to the dostoevsky-reading bolshevik.

on to dad 2. we were about to close the library and it was one of those nights when all the patrons were taking their sweet ass time getting out of the building. please people! i have a life outside the library! get the hell out! but i digress ... dad 2 came up to me to tell me that he had noticed that i was working very hard, going all over the place all the time.

this is true ... and it isn't true. now, i am not one of those librarians who will just point to some far away stack and tell people "it's over there ... somewhere." oh contraire. i actually get off my lazy ass each time and walk people to the stacks and i do not leave their side until they are book in hand. that said, when no one needs my help i am perfectly content to sit at the desk and look at stuff on the internets. work hard, play hard my dear blog readers. anyway, after being complimented about my diligence in the children's room, dad 2 and i discussed the intricacies of various neighborhoods in our fair city. after a few minutes he remembered that he had to leave and i reiterated, yeah get out.

these interactions got me thinking ... of course, it would be typical for the fathers to do some light flirting with the young cute children's librarian. and then i realized that the reason that i had never experienced this before is that i've never encountered fathers before. back in library in the hood i was only flirted with by crackheads and deadbeats.

this leads me to a suggestion for a new slogan .... happy shiny new library: we have fathers.

i am good for more than *one thing* ... i swear

after being sexually harrassed by the child therapist/african american jew and being pre-broken-up-with by the glam rocker, i have been filled with a slight bit of rage. i don't know, i just feel like everybody wants something from me, and they all seem to have some self-righteous feeling that they're entitled to it. i am beginning to think that men just view me as some sort of sexual playground that exists only for their amusement, to be frequented or abandoned at their will. this, dear blog readers, is not a nice feeling.
so when i received the following txt, i was enraged. ENRAGED:
hey how r u doin?
this is lou
me & my friend helped u moved yesterday!
i was just wondering if we could hook up?
wtf?! i hire movers, and they do a shitty job, and then they think i may be available for sex? grrrrrrr.
so i called the head of All Star Movers and reported this to him. he said he would be calling lou immediately and that he would get back to me on this matter. of course, i have yet to hear from him.
but to all you men out there i would just like to reiterate that i am in fact a thinking feeling person and i would appreciate it if even one of you could treat me as such.

p.s. i broke down and called the polyamorist. he will be stopping by to install Stolman.

dirtiness! beware!

it turns out ... i do not accept pleasure from strangers.

previous to my short-lived adventure with the glam rocker, i had gone out on two dates with an african american jew. at first i thought he was from a tribe of jews in africa, but then i found out that he is just from manhattan and he converted.
so he and i were supposed to have a third date the night after i met the glam rocker. but i was so taken with the glam rocker, and really not taken so much with this guy. we hadn't really connected on a deep level, we had barely kissed, i just wasn't feeling it. and to be perfectly honest, i felt a little uneasy around him. like he was always trying to push me out of my comfort zone or something.
so anyway, the other day he IMed me and asked me why i canceled our date and where have i been blah blah blah. so i say to him, "i will be honest with you. i have met someone else." and i figure even though it didn't work out with the glam rocker, i at least know that if i like the GR so much more than the AAJ, than really i shouldn't be with the AAJ. right?
so we got into a little tiff about whether or not i owed him an explanation. i maintain that under the law of social niceties, i do NOT owe him anything since we only had two dates and there was very little physical contact. also there were no long phone calls or great communications in between dates. he said that this would come back to me in karma. is what happened with the GR karma? i don't think so. because, as i said, i owed the african american jew nothing.
so tonight i came home from my writing class, punched some stuff at the gym, took a bath and read the new yorker, and am now relaxing with my laptop and this weird mushroom flavored polish cheese that i got at my favorite bodega.
anyway (where is the dirtiness you ask? ) so he IMs me tonight and says that he is sorry it didn't work out. and that he thinks i am hot. so i said "i know." and i meant this in two ways.
1. i know i am hot, i do not need you to tell me this
2. i know you are very taken by my hotness and it is a little creepy
then he tells me that i am missing out on something spectacular.
suddenly, i am kind of feeling sorry for this poor guy, grasping at straws, IMing a girl who is obviously not interested in him. so i tell him that i am sure he is a great person, but i don't think we make sense as a couple, having nothing to do with the quality of human being he is.
african american jew: yeah, you're right
african american jew: but i just wanted you
me: i know
me: sorry
african american jew: i know it won't work out
african american jew: i can't be your boyfriend
african american jew: but i still want to experience you
african american jew: please let me please you
me: dude! are you asking what i think you're asking?
african american jew: i could really pleasure you
me: you are sick
african american jew: i want to fill your empty spaces
me: i am blocking you!
and then while he was trying to type me another message i frantically blocked him from IMing me ever again.
but the story continues! so while i am writing this post, he sends me an e-mail
"i am not asking for sex just friendship on a high level!"
to which i respond "go %@$& yourself."
and then he writes back: "why would you write something like that ... i don't want to have sex with you, leave me alone!"
oh ... my .... god. what a sick bastard. now i must go to facebook and block him from my facebook. i would also like to add that this is the second person from jdate that i have had to block from contacting me in the past two weeks. seriously, a message to the single jews of the metropolitan area: get your shit together.

the giving and getting of digits

today i had a class visit in which i showcased a variety of revolutionary war biographies. it went very well, except for the fact that none of the kids can ever remember to bring their library cards. this is rather annoying since after painstakingly researching revolutionary war titles and pulling them all from the shelves, i have to now put them all back. or to be more accurate, i have to make my page put them all back. anyway, while the class was in the program room, reading the books i had selected for them, a man came up to the desk.
man: is that a classroom in there?
me: no, it's a program room. we just have a class visiting.
man: you teach in there?
me: no, we have programs. like class visits, and homework help and crafts and stuff.
man: you're a teacher?
me: no. i'm a librarian. this is a library.
man: i was hoping you could tell me the benefits of getting a library card.
me: (starting to wonder if this guy is "for real") well, if you had a library card you could take out movies or music cds or books or magazines or use our computers. and it's all free as long as you return your items on time. (isn't the library grand?)
man: free? but how much does it cost to get a library card?
me: (chipper as can be) its free! you just have to return your items on time and you'll never have to pay for anything.
after a little convicing i am able to persuade him into getting a card. so he goes off to get a card and then returns a little while later.
man: i'd like to talk to you some more. ask you a few more questions.
me: (starting to get scared) okay.
man: no. (pause for creepy effect) i want to talk to you on the phone.
me: i don't think so.
man: why don't you give me your phone number.
me: absolutely not.
man: well, can i give you my number?
me: you can do what you want, but i'm not going to call you
man: (starting to write down his phone number) i think you'll change your mind
me: nah, i won't change my mind.
man: oh, i think i'll be hearing from you
me: not gonna happen
and i take the piece of scrap paper he wrote his number on and immediately throw it in the trash as he walks away.

i am a lovely little girl

he sees me as he enters the library and he begins his incoherent mumblings about how lovely i am. he approaches the desk and says, "you're a lovely little girl."

little girl. like i'm delivering him two boxes of thin mints.

"thanks," i say, with as little enthusiasm as humanly possible.

"don't thank me!" he says, clearly getting excited by our lively exchange. "i wasn't there! i had no part of it." (note to single men: this type of behavior will never get you any play) "that was your momma and daddy and GOD!"

"yeah, ok, well can i help you with something?"

his eyes brighten and i swear to you he begins to make a sound which i can only describe as yelping.

"yes, help. help. help. help," he squeaks, trying to be cute but failing miserably because he is an oily haired toothless psycho and i am an normal attractive woman.

"yeah, that's great," i say, "what do you want?"

so we go through the song and dance of him wanting a book and me finding said book but us not having it at this branch and blah blah blah he doesn't have a library card. so i send him to the circulation desk, where he spews crazy at them for a while. there is some shouting. then he decides to take a seat at the table right opposite of little old me. oh joy.

so as i try to help legitimate patrons with legitimate questions, he entertains himself with his little mentally unbalanced passtimes. he empties all the contents out of his pockets. he drops change on the table and watches it roll around, screaming "money!"

all very charming. oh, and did i mention that between rantings he throws in a "you're so lovely" or a "you really are beautiful" or a "damned you're pretty." so very charming.

after a few minutes of this i tell him that if he cannot be quiet he will have to leave. and then, my beloved readers, he tells me that he would rather flirt with me instead. lucky me.

soon after this our ever-vigilant security guard notices that something is awry, and he comes over and reiterates that the man must be quiet or leave. so this guy gets up like he's going to leave. but instead of leaving he stands directly in front of me. he's standing, looming over the desk like he has a question to ask me, but he doesn't ask me anything. he just stands there staring at me. so i try to pretend like i am doing something, and the security guard tells him that if he doesn't have a question he must sit down and be quiet.

"no," he counters. "i don't have to do anything. i just want to look at this beautiful girl here."

and this dear readers was my breaking point. "sir ... " i begin.

"oh, no need to call me sir," he says, "my name's benny."

"i don't care ... you need to sit down and be quiet or LEAVE!"

so then he tells me again that i really am beautiful. you know, in case i doubted him before.

"sir!" i interupt, "i am not above calling the police and having them escort disruptive patrons out of the library. you NEED to leave."

and then he walked off into the sunset, turning back to face me as he passed through our security gates and stuck out his tongue at me.

have i ever mentioned that i paid $35,000 to get a Masters in Library Science so that i would be qualified for this type of work?