A library encounter

Yesterday, Friday, I was working the Information Desk, on the first floor. It being Purim and Good Friday, the day was fairly quiet, the crowds thin. I did get two or three rushes, where I had someone on the phone, and another person at the desk; at one point I actually was working two phones and had someone waiting in front of me. Now that I am experienced, I can handle that type of situation fairly easily.

Sometime around 2.45, I heard the distinct voice of a cellphone conversation. It was loud; few people speak that loudly to another person (though some do: I've heard and seen that). I turned around and saw a person on a cellphone. I let it go.

After the encounter the prior day, and after discussing it with Glenn, who has worked at the Library for about ten years (and said that there really isn't anything we can do about someone who won't listen to a request to cease and desist), I decided to just let it go. I did see the person end the conversation, and give the cellphone back to a woman, who took it and then put her ear-implant (the earpiece that I guess is what is known as Blue Tooth) back in.

In moments I heard another voice; the same two. I went over, stood in front of the one with the implant, and asked her to go out to the lobby to have her cellphone conversation. She was sitting at an electronic catalog machine, a newspaper over the keyboard, a cellphone by her right hand, the piece in her ear.

"I'm not on the phone; I was talking to her," she said, and went on turning the pages of her tabloid.

I just left. What could I say? Hey, your friend was just on the phone, your voice is loud, and, by the way, sit somewhere else? I could have, but I decided not to, and went back to the desk.

Ah, the joy of being a baby-sitter. No, I didn't put my hand in the cookie jar. My prints are on the jar? I just said I didn't. No, those are not cookie crumbs on my blouse. No, that isn't a cookie crumb on my lip. I let it go at that.