In the Morning:
If Hotmail doesn't like that password, ma'am, there's nothing I can do about it.
Local employment office.
Out of town computer user.
Printer advice (Look down, sir. There's your copy).
Some book in Spanish. I forget now.
The microfilm reader dies.
How to get a library card.
The microfilm reader dies again.
If he returns a video in the drop box, is it late?
The microfilm reader dies a third time.
Sorry ma'am. That computer won't print.
We're a depository library, but we can't let patrons see the holdings at the moment for some reason.
In the Afternoon:
Computers are there, ma'am, and bathrooms are over there.
Talk to them about a library card, ma'am.
Libarian Y runs up to my screen. "Is that food?"
Some German genealogical cds which won't work on any of our machines.
Awww! Isn't it cute the teeny weeny little screaming bawling baby! Get her out of here!
Bathrooms are down there, sir.
Later in the Afternoon:
Our sheriff in 1930-1935.
Sherriff's office phone (different patron).
A book called "Why we are here," or maybe "God's purpose;" she can't remember.
They'll register your card over there, sir.
The print station is at the same place it was before, sir.
Zip code directory, A-M.
Why yes, sir, they did move the stacks around.
He lost his translucent green floppy.
A complaint about our depository being off limits for the time being.