I still remember my first reference
question. I was stationed next to the library’s front door, a charming
spot where people slung their wet umbrellas and one man always left the
newspaper while he called numbers from personal ads. I’d been there for
years, but suddenly found myself as nervous as I was on my first day of
work. Answering questions at circulation meant dealing with stuff like: why do you close so early and why do you open so late and has anyone ever told you that tall women shouldn’t wear capri pants? But
something about sitting behind the bold-font REFERENCE nameplate felt
different. This was where real research happened. What if I didn’t know
any of the answers? I mean, I eat cereal for dinner most nights and I
broke my own dryer because I put too many shoes in it one time. What
could I possibly offer these patrons? What did I actually know?
A man approached from the stacks. I tried to smile, flexing my fingers on the keyboard in front of me. There were databases I could use, tools at my disposal. I figured worst-case scenario I’d excuse myself from a question I couldn’t answer and just drive out of state. Change my identity. Start a new life as a vet technician.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
He leaned in and whispered: “Where’s the bathroom?”
Granted, this was not the only question I answered that day, but it did set the tone for what my future shifts would look like. The thing about working the reference desk is you only learn how to do it by sitting your ass in the seat. Like most library work, understanding reference comes from actually interacting with patrons. There’s no way to know how to correctly answer life’s weirdest questions without having someone physically stroll up, plop themselves in the seat directly adjacent, and ask: “Do you know any good erotica sites?” You get a variety of different queries (for instance, I once talked a woman through setting up an online dating profile and then drew her a map to meet a date at Cold Stone Creamery on the back of McDonald’s napkin), but there’s always one shockingly similar thing that occurs when you’re sitting a reference shift. Most of the time people don’t actually know what the hell it is they’re trying to ask you.
I know, it sounds weird. ....
Questions I’ve been asked by a single patron during a reference shift:
A man approached from the stacks. I tried to smile, flexing my fingers on the keyboard in front of me. There were databases I could use, tools at my disposal. I figured worst-case scenario I’d excuse myself from a question I couldn’t answer and just drive out of state. Change my identity. Start a new life as a vet technician.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
He leaned in and whispered: “Where’s the bathroom?”
Granted, this was not the only question I answered that day, but it did set the tone for what my future shifts would look like. The thing about working the reference desk is you only learn how to do it by sitting your ass in the seat. Like most library work, understanding reference comes from actually interacting with patrons. There’s no way to know how to correctly answer life’s weirdest questions without having someone physically stroll up, plop themselves in the seat directly adjacent, and ask: “Do you know any good erotica sites?” You get a variety of different queries (for instance, I once talked a woman through setting up an online dating profile and then drew her a map to meet a date at Cold Stone Creamery on the back of McDonald’s napkin), but there’s always one shockingly similar thing that occurs when you’re sitting a reference shift. Most of the time people don’t actually know what the hell it is they’re trying to ask you.
I know, it sounds weird. ....
Questions I’ve been asked by a single patron during a reference shift:
Where is the nearest Jiffy Lube?
How many episodes of Doctor Who are there?
How long does a pregnancy last?
For an elephant?
For a mouse?
For a human being?
Are you pregnant?
Are you sure you’re not pregnant?
Wait, you’re gay?
Are you sure you’re gay?
Can I get an STI from shaking hands?
How do I know if my kid is gay?
Do you have books about that? For me, for my kid?
Is there a Burger King nearby? .... [mehr] https://lithub.com/are-you-pregnant-can-i-have-some-creamer-and-other-questions-i-get-at-the-library/
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