It's a slow day. Why the hell not?

In the Morning:

Notarization.
You don't need to ask, but you do need a library card to use the computer, sir.
He needs local court records, which we do not have.
You'll need a visitors pass, ma'am.
Porches.
Local papers from 1961.
Business plan guides.
Local college schedule.
This business of music, by M. William Krasilovsky and Sidney Shemel.
You can't fit the entire front page of the newspaper onto a single copy, ma'am.
More fun with the microfilm machines (the library owes me forty cents).
"What year did they start making Honda Civics? How much does it cost?"
Yes, we register people to vote here ... You need two forms of ID ... Expired licenses don't work ... Yes, a utility bill is okay ... Yes you feed the meters on Saturday ... Yes we're wheelchair accessable ...
A page wants to know about a Hebrew dance he can't pronounce.
Operations Management, by James B. Dilworth.
ASVAB books.

In the Afternoon:

Notarization.
"Where are the biographies?"
You need a visitors pass, sir.
Who's beeping? Stop it.
The power of intention, by Wayne Dyer.
My computer crashes.
A patron's computer crashes.
Out of time, by Caroline Cooney.
"Daddy, what's this for?" over and over again.
At a online catalog, a man exclaims "MISSING?!?!?"
The would-be voter in the wheelchair comes in.
A perfectly polite and friendly patron who talks way too loud and doesn't know it. I wish to tell him that the Brother Cadfael books have little in common with The name of the rose, apart from monks trying to figure things out.
Five notarizations.
You'll need to talk to the home delivery people during the week, ma'am.
I can't find the 2004 Songwriter's market.
How to send pics from his cell phone over the internet. Librarian B and I don't know what to tell him.
A WP freezes with its unsaved document. When will they learn?
Is this your eyeglass case?
The printed copy comes out there, ma'am.
Are these your keys?
You can leave the books there, ma'am. We'll reshelve them.