Introduction
The thumbnail image is only tangentially related to this tale.
When I first started working at my small town library, there was one particular patron who presented a serious threat to my serenity, and quite possibly my physical well-being. We suspect she was schizophrenic. Sometimes she was obnoxious but bearable. Our assumption was that she was on her meds then, because when she apparently was not, she was a monster. Her downfall was selling her meds to undercover cops, so she is no longer a visitor at the library due to her new state-provided housing. Before her involuntary incarceration, however, she was the patron we least wanted to see walking toward the door.
Her account was often suspended due to the fines that accumulate when you borrow literally dozens of DVDs at a time, and then fail to return them before the due date a week later. At 10¢/day per item, the fines rack up quickly on top of charges for the missing items. But on the occasion of our first encounter, my branch manager told her that when the movies were returned, and the late fees were paid, we would reinstate her account.
Fast-forward to the end of the week. At that time, we had only one staff member working on Saturdays. Of course, my first solo Saturday shift was coming to a close when she walked in to return the giant stack of long-overdue DVDs. I had to set aside my closing procedures and help her out. What follows is a rough paraphrase of the subsequent events.
Her: "OK, I brought back my movies. Can I check out more now?"
Me: "I'm sorry, no, I need to check these in, and then my manager will unlock your account when she comes in on Monday."
Her: "BUT SHE TOLD ME WHEN I BROUGHT THESE BACK, I COULD GET MORE MOVIES!"
Me: "That's right, but first I need to check these in and verify that your account is clear. Then, she needs to use her managerial access to make your card unblocked in our computer system. I can't do that part, so that can't happen today. I'm sorry."
Her: [angry sputtering, swearing, and gesticulating toward me, the building in general, and then the door as she stomped out]
Like I told her then, her account was squared away on Monday, and she returned to borrow a giant stack of DVDs that day.
Of course, this would not be our last encounter.
She was usually much calmer after that, but her temperament on her infrequent subsequent visits would always be a crap shoot. This all came to a head, however, on one fine summer day. It was another Saturday, of course, and I was again manning the library on my own. As was her usual habit, she rushed in during our last 20 minutes or so to return about a score of overdue movies. When I had finished checking in her returns and she returned from browsing our shelves with all the courtesy of a hurricane, it was somehow my fault that she was well over hard cap on fines and couldn't borrow anything.
I knew she lived just a few blocks from the library, so wanting to be helpful, I said, "I can set these aside and you can come in on Monday to pay your fines and borrow these movies. However, if you think you can get home and back before we close in 10 minutes, I will let you pay the fines and check these out today. But remember, I have to lock the door at 4:00, so you need to be back here before then."
She thought that was a grand idea, and dashed off.
4:00 came along. I locked the door, and then continued with the closing procedures she had interrupted with her needless drama.
4:05 PM
Thump! Thump! Thump! Someone was very violently knocking on the glass panel of our front door. I turned off the vacuum to investigate. It was her. And she was not happy.
Muffled only slightly by the double-pane glass, she shouted, "I NEED MY MOVIES!"
I replied that it was after closing, the computers were shut down, so she would need to come back on Monday. Her response was an inhuman howl of rage combined with further physical abuse toward our door. I should add that the door was an entirely innocent bystander throughout all of this. Fortunately, she soon ceased her assault upon it and skulked off. I finished my closing chores and, after verifying that she was nowhere near the entrance, made my escape. She was so entirely off her rocker that I seriously thought she might attempt violence against me.
On my way home, I drove past the park and was reminded that there was a folk music festival that afternoon, too. I decided to sit under a shade tree and take in some old-time music to unwind after that stressful event. The music was something like this:
Apparently my manager was taking advantage of her day off to enjoy the same event. When she saw me, she asked, "Well, how did your day go at the library?" I was too tired and frazzled to do anything but simply tell her who had stopped by and what had happened. She was NOT HAPPY about it.
So our crazy lady was promptly banned from all district libraries for a long time. Her ban was eventually lifted, but that reinstatement was shortly before she was caught selling drugs to cops as noted at the beginning, so other than a couple visits in that brief window of time, I haven't seen her since.
Inner conflict
On the one hand, I hate the War on Drugs and its insidious escalation of violence by cops and the resultant violent black markets that arose in response. What you produce, buy, sell, or consume is none of my business if you don't infringe on the life, liberty, and property of others. Arrest and imprisonment for a non-crime is kidnapping, regardless of the law.
On the other hand, I am honestly glad she is gone, and unlikely to ever return. I feel a little bit guilty about taking pleasure in that.
Previous library posts:
The Frazzled Parents
Rancid Crabtree's Relations
The Girl Who Knocks
Monster Boy and Horror Girl
The Mountain Man
The Deaf Ashtray
Library Urchins
An Odoriferous Library Intrusion and the sequel