Today, I received a rather unusual reference request. This particular girl was looking for a couple of textbooks (which is a whole other story, trust me) which she needed right away and here were the titles (which turned out to be nothing like the actual titles, not even close) etc. yadda yadda yadda. That in and of itself is nothing new. Ah, but here's the kicker: could I possibly mail them to her house...well, alright honey, I'll get right on that just as soon as I've detailed your car, shampooed your carpets, alphabetized your wardrobe and pleasured you orally. Because, you know, that's the level of dedicated customer service I'm committed to giving after all...sheesh, some people. Based on our exchange, I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume some sort of language/communication barrier, but I'm fairly sure no society on earth (with the possible exception of private libraries for extremely rich and/or powerful people) has libraries that do any of that. There is still some measure of resolve on your part to roll off your couch and at least come in to pick your stuff up. Well, actually I guess the Queen of England could possibly have her library books hand delivered to Buckingham or Windsor, she's got people for that.
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