Today was a day that will live in the infirmary. A small plague is sweeping through the Banned Library that I feel has something to do with everyone being whiny losers. A little hay comes drifiting through the air and suddenly everyone has a fever dealing with the hay. But not only the people, no, the computers seem to have caught a little virus as well.
We started today as normal. Dave was telling me an interesting story about a monkey on Youtube that can work on cars when all hell broke loose. You may believe I am using a metaphor, and I am. Hell did not, in fact, break loose. I would be hard pressed, however, to find a more apt description for the sounds that came from the computer lab when the Internet went down for six minutes.
The Banned Server. Pray.
I do not want to get technical, but the computer server did a hiccup and had a booboo. That is how Dave explained it to me. He could have told me the magical fairy craps out the Internet was constipated and I would have been okay. And I was okay. I understand how technology does not work sometimes. Patrons do not.
One woman wondered why Hotmail was mad at her. Another man felt we should just turn “the whole damn thing off and then on again.” My favorite was the guy that said we should just Google what to do. Hilarious. He is a card.
The best part about all this is I am waiting on a grant for new computers. Yeah. If the state would hurry up, we could all be sitting on new boxes of computers tomorrow. Next week we might even get around to taking them out of the boxes.
To finish up, I shall tell you about how I kicked a homeless man who was attempting to fight the wall. Oh, a tale as old as time. See, Foreign Bob came in at his usual time, mumbling his normal jibberish/language and heading directly for the magazine rack. See, Foreign Bob likes to look at all the pretty pictures of all the pretty women and then lick them. Not the women, the pictures. I am not saying he would turn down the option to lick one of the women in question, but he would be taken down by a burly security guard long before he got that far.
So Foreign Bob comes in and heads right to the magazine rack and somebody’s there. This throws Foreign Bob off. He can not act like a normal person, grab his magazine and sit down like a regular fella. Nope. Not with others around. Foreign Bob needs his magazine alone time. So he freaks out and punches a wall.
Here’s a fun tip: If you put up dry wall that someone might punch, put it up on a brick wall.
I made sure Foreign Bob was okay, then asked him to leave. Now there is a hole in our wall and a freaked out lady whose day of reading Cat Fancy was ruined. Good one, Foreign Bob.
And the Band Played On.
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