(no subject)
I made someone extremely enraged at work today.
There's a water cooler in the hallway outside of the library. It's usually empty these days. Sometimes I'm sad and drink from the tap in the washroom, but usually I don't care very much.
During a lull this afternoon, I was vegging out at the front desk when an older man walked in. Facing the new-books corner in an awkward manner, he looked back at me with a glint in his eye and said in his rich-man's voice, "Excuse me? The water cooler over there is empty. Do you think you could look into it? Maybe someone could refill it when they're not busy? There's even another bottle nearby." I nodded and he walked away.
Less than three minutes later--keeping in mind that this has never been brought up before today--a small 40-year-old woman dressed in black athletic clothes walked in, looking vaguely overheated.
"Excuse me," she hissed in a manner most contrasting with the kindly man's helpful commenting. "The water cooler is STILL empty. And I'm very thirsty. Would you PLEASE get it filled? Call whoever you have to call? THANK YOU." And she walked off to the internet terminals.
I sat there, ponderously, wondering if I should ask the district manager of the libraries, who was sitting in the room behind me. I decided to ask him if he got up and walked past me, or to ask the librarian when she came back.
She soon did. She was standing behind me, facing the desk, shuffling some papers here and there.
"Er, it's just.." I started.
"Yes?" she said.
"Some people have been complaining about the water cooler being empty.." I continued.
"Oh, that's not really our responsibility," she answered in her usual line. "It belongs to the community centre next door. You--or someone--can make a note on the service form beside it. Or, they could walk over to the community centre. It's in the police station building there."
A few minutes later, the woman in black returned.
"So?" she barked at me. "Didja call them yet? ARE YOU AS THIRSTY AS ME?" (angrily, disbelieving at my stupidity.) "And here, put ten cents' fine on my card for this page I printed, I don't have any change on me." She handed me her card.
"Who am I supposed to call, again?" I said.
"Whoever changes the water cooler! You didn't do anything, did you!?" (angry, my stupidity confirmed.)
"Actually, it's not our water cooler," I said, "It apparantly belongs to the community centre or something.." I said, tentatively. Her face soured into rage as I said it. "You could go and see if they could replace it, maybe.."
"Well are you going to call them!?" she asked. "OR DO I HAVE TO CALL THEM MYSELF?" she said, advancing menacingly towards the computer, which is silly, because the phone is actually far off to her right.
"We all have to work together here in Rocklifhe (sic) Village, we all have to do our part!"
(Rocklifhe Village being a Westmount-like millionaire's neighborhood North-East of downtown, ostensibly "not part of Ottawa." I had a notion to mention that I work for the city of Ottawa and that I could never hope to be rich enough to live in her neighborhood, but I didn't.)
"What!" she said. "ARE YOU GOING TO CALL? OR SHOULD I JUST WALK OVER?"
"Well, maybe you'd might as well.." I muttered, resigned/humiliated.
She let out a sound of ultimate frustration and rage and snatched her library card and stormed out the door, shouting something about the $0.10.
I went to put some books away in the back shelves, actually working, but admittedly also hiding a tiny bit, because she is such an insane weirdo. I heard her come back a minute later, talking very loudly in the hallway to a woman from the community centre. "YEAH, IT'S THAT BOY OVER THERE, HE SAID IT'S NOT HIS JOB TO CALL YOU GUYS. NOT HIS JOB EH? CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? OK LET'S SEE HOW THIS WORKS. GOD I'M SURE IT'S NOT VERY HARD. SOME PEOPLE EH? HA HA NOT HIS JOB. SEE WE CAN DO THIS TOGETHER," bla bla.
Then they apparantly finished, because she walked back into the entrance of the library and let out a passive-aggressive declaration. I was at this time in the far back putting away non-fiction and nowhere in sight.
"YO! IT'S CHANGED! NEXT TIME IF IT RUNS OUT YOU CAN JUST CALL HER, IT'S REALLY NOT THAT HARD!"
Now, I admit that her request was extremely regular--And I don't even feel satisfied at defying her. But I seriously become extremely useless and unhelpful by default if someone starts talking down to me and ordering me around. It's my only recourse, passive aggressively acting like a moron, because I'm not strong enough to confront someone and tell them to treat me with respect.
There's a water cooler in the hallway outside of the library. It's usually empty these days. Sometimes I'm sad and drink from the tap in the washroom, but usually I don't care very much.
During a lull this afternoon, I was vegging out at the front desk when an older man walked in. Facing the new-books corner in an awkward manner, he looked back at me with a glint in his eye and said in his rich-man's voice, "Excuse me? The water cooler over there is empty. Do you think you could look into it? Maybe someone could refill it when they're not busy? There's even another bottle nearby." I nodded and he walked away.
Less than three minutes later--keeping in mind that this has never been brought up before today--a small 40-year-old woman dressed in black athletic clothes walked in, looking vaguely overheated.
"Excuse me," she hissed in a manner most contrasting with the kindly man's helpful commenting. "The water cooler is STILL empty. And I'm very thirsty. Would you PLEASE get it filled? Call whoever you have to call? THANK YOU." And she walked off to the internet terminals.
I sat there, ponderously, wondering if I should ask the district manager of the libraries, who was sitting in the room behind me. I decided to ask him if he got up and walked past me, or to ask the librarian when she came back.
She soon did. She was standing behind me, facing the desk, shuffling some papers here and there.
"Er, it's just.." I started.
"Yes?" she said.
"Some people have been complaining about the water cooler being empty.." I continued.
"Oh, that's not really our responsibility," she answered in her usual line. "It belongs to the community centre next door. You--or someone--can make a note on the service form beside it. Or, they could walk over to the community centre. It's in the police station building there."
A few minutes later, the woman in black returned.
"So?" she barked at me. "Didja call them yet? ARE YOU AS THIRSTY AS ME?" (angrily, disbelieving at my stupidity.) "And here, put ten cents' fine on my card for this page I printed, I don't have any change on me." She handed me her card.
"Who am I supposed to call, again?" I said.
"Whoever changes the water cooler! You didn't do anything, did you!?" (angry, my stupidity confirmed.)
"Actually, it's not our water cooler," I said, "It apparantly belongs to the community centre or something.." I said, tentatively. Her face soured into rage as I said it. "You could go and see if they could replace it, maybe.."
"Well are you going to call them!?" she asked. "OR DO I HAVE TO CALL THEM MYSELF?" she said, advancing menacingly towards the computer, which is silly, because the phone is actually far off to her right.
"We all have to work together here in Rocklifhe (sic) Village, we all have to do our part!"
(Rocklifhe Village being a Westmount-like millionaire's neighborhood North-East of downtown, ostensibly "not part of Ottawa." I had a notion to mention that I work for the city of Ottawa and that I could never hope to be rich enough to live in her neighborhood, but I didn't.)
"What!" she said. "ARE YOU GOING TO CALL? OR SHOULD I JUST WALK OVER?"
"Well, maybe you'd might as well.." I muttered, resigned/humiliated.
She let out a sound of ultimate frustration and rage and snatched her library card and stormed out the door, shouting something about the $0.10.
I went to put some books away in the back shelves, actually working, but admittedly also hiding a tiny bit, because she is such an insane weirdo. I heard her come back a minute later, talking very loudly in the hallway to a woman from the community centre. "YEAH, IT'S THAT BOY OVER THERE, HE SAID IT'S NOT HIS JOB TO CALL YOU GUYS. NOT HIS JOB EH? CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? OK LET'S SEE HOW THIS WORKS. GOD I'M SURE IT'S NOT VERY HARD. SOME PEOPLE EH? HA HA NOT HIS JOB. SEE WE CAN DO THIS TOGETHER," bla bla.
Then they apparantly finished, because she walked back into the entrance of the library and let out a passive-aggressive declaration. I was at this time in the far back putting away non-fiction and nowhere in sight.
"YO! IT'S CHANGED! NEXT TIME IF IT RUNS OUT YOU CAN JUST CALL HER, IT'S REALLY NOT THAT HARD!"
Now, I admit that her request was extremely regular--And I don't even feel satisfied at defying her. But I seriously become extremely useless and unhelpful by default if someone starts talking down to me and ordering me around. It's my only recourse, passive aggressively acting like a moron, because I'm not strong enough to confront someone and tell them to treat me with respect.