Yesterday I went to my local library to stock up on books because of my self-inflicted 9pm screen ban. I haven’t been to the library in years. They really are quite wonderful places despite the fact that they smell like floppy disks mixed with wet pillows. In fact the whole trip debunked a few assumptions I had about libraries. Most people have been irreparably scarred, either physically or emotionally by their high school librarian so I’m always a bit nervous when borrowing books from state libraries, wondering if they’re going to withhold my high school certificate until I return all the books I’ve ever borrowed, like nasty Mrs Neil at school did.

Things I Learned at The Library

Librarians are hilarious

Possibly the wittiest and driest three women I’ve ever met were the three librarians at my local library yesterday. All were deathly pale with dark hair and sharp eyes like vampires of the literary under world. When I arrived, two of them were having a good old gas-bag behind the counter. When one of them noticed me standing there I said ‘Hello! I’d like to join the library…‘ and she cut me off and said ‘Shhhh! You have to be QUIET AT THE LIBRARY!‘ and gave me the kind of death stare that only primary school PE teachers and Chanel sales staff have previously perfected. I was momentarily horrified before I realised she was joking and then she proceeded to take the piss out of me for the full 20 minutes I was there. Well played feisty librarian. Well played.

Librarians have Rain Man Brains

Carly – ‘Um, excuse me where’s the true crime section?’

Librarian 2.0 – ‘What kind of true crime? Gangsters? 355.’

Carly  – ‘No not gangsters more like murder and killing and stuff.’

Librarian 2.0 – ‘Drug related murders? 360. Murders of passion? 362.’

Carly – ‘More like horrific serial killers.‘

Librarian 2.0 – ‘365.‘

Carly – ‘Um… thank you.‘

Librarian 2.0 – *processing*… *response not required*

Note: Most librarians will freak out that I got the Dewey decimal numbers wrong for these subjects but really, that just solidifies my argument. 

Children are physically incapable of being quiet in a library

I watched one little tacker walk inside and stage whisper loudly to his mum ‘WE NEED TO BE VERY QUIET INSIDE THE LIBERRY!’ and then he promptly lost his shit and screamed up and down the aisles bellowing random words like ‘PUPPY!’ and ‘TRUCK!’ and flinging books into a messy pool that I was convinced he was going to take a high dive into like Scrooge McDuck into his pit of money. It was fascinating because he knew he had to be quiet in the ‘liberry’ but he just couldn’t help himself. Adorable… said the childless adult.

People don’t come to the library to chat

I was browsing through the fiction section and stumbled upon a V C Andrews novel I hadn’t yet read and struck up a conversation with a girl next to me who had an armful of the Flowers in the Attic series. Naturally I launched straight into a heated diatribe about the Dollangangers and how intensely bad/excellent the series is, how Virginia Andrews was the ultimate fantasist and how a dude actually wrote all of the novels after she died in 1986. The girl hissed at me like a startled cave creature and hobbled away to the safety of a 3-walled study desk and then wrapped her scarf around her face. Note to self: Don’t talk to people at the library because it breaks them.

When was the last time you went to library? Are you a regular at your local joint?