I was going to write this in my little notebook/journal, but there is something so liberating about venting as you type. Maybe it's because the keys make these clicking sounds and you get to push them in and your anger is somewhat alleviated. Or maybe it's because I can type more quickly than I can write and therefore it is truly an outpour of my thoughts. Well, whatever the reason, I think this is the more appropriate method of releasing my anger. Though I was going to use a red pen.
So, a few days ago I was so perturbed by the occurrence which I will momentarily describe in detail that I actually couldn't focus on anything but my anger for the next 10 minutes. Maybe more. Then a second occurrence lead me to further ire and I just knew it had to be written about. So, I jotted a note down to myself in my notebook and settled on writing it later. However, through all the waiting and anticipating, I became slightly nervous. Had I built my passion for this subject up too much? True, my anger had dissipated somewhat but I could vividly recall my throat-closing anger at the moment of the incident. And then, this morning I was reminded yet again of how true my thoughts are. Regardless of the mediocrity of this writing piece, my feelings simply must be said.

"The people I hate most in the world are those people who have...like...crap jobs and they're really bitter about it so they try and take it out on you."

A friend said this to me and I thought he was being a bit harsh, but after last Friday, I'll never disagree with that again. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not insulting seemingly little jobs; a waitress or a coffee shop employee, a parking attendant or a librarian, I'm just saying it's what people make of these jobs that makes them hateable or likeable. Take for instance a certain librarian working in the New Canaan Public Library. Maybe she's elderly and a little fragile. Imagine how she smiles to the kids when they come in for the read-aloud, imagine how she is soft spoken and helps you find your book. Imagine how she lovingly sweeps your book of choice across the barcode reader and delicately hands the book back to you. And she'll ask if it's for a school project, or just light reading, or have you ever read Watership Down? "A great novel," she'll say, "I remember when I first read it. In those days, rabbit books were quite unheard of; you know, I used to only be aloud books on poetry!" And we'll chuckle to each other and bid a kind farewell. That is the librarian I hope for. But, is that the librarian I got? No. You bet your ass I got the worst of the bunch. Now, I'll refrain from names here but this librarian- devil's spawn I say. She's horrendous. I was quietly chattering with a friend in the NCHS makeshift library-yes, right here in our own school!-when my friend made a slightly amusing comment. I admit, I chortled a little (subdued mind you, I didn't want to disturb those around me) and as I successfully surpressed the last of it, I heard a harsh, "Okay girls, get out of the library--" and before I could open my mouth, she repeated, even more harshly and with a higher stinging volume, "NOW. GET OUT NOW. You've been much too disruptive. I've asked you to be quiet THREE TIMES already (a complete and total falsehood! They CLAIM they have this "3times" warning but it's total bullshit. I know because I'm in there frequently trying to study and I can't even count the amount of times kids have been fingered as talkers when they like JUST came into the library. Three warnings my ass.) and you have to leave. Go on, GET YOUR STUFF." She mentioned something about other people needing a quiet workspace, meanwhile, she was yelling at me to leave, causing the ENTIRE library to swivel heads and glare. Not at us (the poor quiet children been scolded undeservedly in a corner of the PREVIOUSLY quiet library) but at her (the spawn of satin, yelling and gesticulating as violently and as fiercely as she could muster. What an idiot). But did I respond with a "But we were being quiet" or a "But I was working"? No. I had to keep my mouth shut because I knew she wouldn't listen. She didn't care that we weren't disturbing anyone. She was just on a power trip. She was just embittered about something, likely her shitty position as like, assistant asswipe to the head librarian, and she was pissed. So, she thought she'd execute what minimal authority she had on kicking me out. How ridiculous! I think she probably smirked in satisfaction as I left, knowing she was nearing her quota for the day of 'kids to kick out of the library'--regardless of their complete innocence.
But there's more to that day.
As I was exiting the school during a triple lunch, with my legitimate and PAID FOR, mind you, student ID, I was accosted yet again. As I gently applied the brakes of my car to ease into a slow stop near the school exit, the parking attendant ASSHOLE like flags me down and starts ranting, "There's a STOP SIGN THERE you can just BLOW on through here. I was telling you to stop (lie. he was actually boardline waving me through, but out of the kindness in my heart I stopped, knowing he would probably like to review my ID before I proceeded. Clearly the senile old jackass THOUGHT he recognized me, then quickly realized the error or his ways and tried to back pedal by yelling at me. what an asshole.) couldn't you TELL?" He then looks- no- glares into my car (no doubt scanning for illegal substances) and forces his hand into the window, to snatch my ID. He then has the audacity to hold it for a minute, almost up to my face, to verify the recognition between the picture and me. Come. On. Do you really think if I had a fake ID (A STUDENT ID too!!!!) that I would have stopped for the fucking sign? No. Hell. No. I would have sped through here like a jackass, with complete disregard for all the rules, since I clearly would have been stupid enough to think a fake student ID would pass for off campus privileges. imean, DUMBASS. Anyway after he resigned to the fact that the ID was mine and I did indeed have off campus privileges, as well as a parking sticker and a legitimate car (IM surprised he didn't demand my license, the bastard) he had no choice but to let me go. He slowly backed away from the car in defeat. As I re-entered the school half an hour later, I made sure I was going about 10 mph (a full 15 under the parking lot speed limit designated by the state) and politely waved. But you now what I wanted to do? I wanted to give that old fart the finger. What an ass.
Now, I have two more heinous librarian stories, but in the interest of time I'll spare you. Perhaps I'll write a sonnet about it. Those librarian bitches who claim to be instilling justice and keeping the library quiet when really they are just trying to suck the fun out of life. no joke.

So, it just goes to show that those embittered assholes who have powerless jobs will go to any length to assert authority. And it's so ridiculous because it's frequently misplaced; here I am, a relatively good student, a girl who RARELY, yes, rarely breaks any rules, and I'm being viciously attacked for essentially nothing. The injustice is sickening.
Ahhhh I have so much more I could say, like about the time the other librarian (the senior librarian, she has her own office, ooooo! how big time for her....) was talking to the satan's spawn and I, from-no joke- the OTHER END OF THE LIBRARY, could hear her conversation about how she was planning on buying the new Talbots (or was it Lord&Taylor?) shell (a type of sweater) because it was so cute and looked oh-so-cozy. I was trying to study and they actually WERE majorly disturbing me. But could I say anything? No. Why? Because I have respect for my elders, and those who work at NCHS (for the most part, except now I just hate them) but mostly because it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. They would never admit they were wrong; they'd be like, "Well, no one's in here", or like, "I'm speaking much more quietly than many of your friends who come in here." What shit. I told one of them once I was going to write a persuasive essay on the injustices of the NCHS library. I think she thinks I was kidding. I wasn't.