one of our least favorite, long time, bitchy patrons passed away this week. i don't know how i feel about this. she was in her sixties, had some kind of awful skin disease and arthritis really bad. her skin was one big open sore and i felt bad for her when she was not bitching about something. we have lost 2 patrons in a little more than a month. they were both young (60's) and both were a shock. how do you handle a patron's death? the first woman was a water colorist and well known in the community. we had her artwork displayed when she died and many people came to view her work. i think some of my coworkers went to her funeral...we have a couple of clerks who attend just about every damned funeral there is. kind of like a social event. and they are not old farts or anything like that. (damn. i do not want people i barely know at my funeral.) but, no one in the library is going to TT's funeral. sad. you know, i really, really despise some of our patrons (like Mr Big Ass, who was in tonight stinking worse than ever, fucking up the scent of my flowers. he now has a sidekick who looks like a young Saddam Hussein with really big teeth. honestly. like a characature of Saddam). anyway, as i was saying, i despise some patrons but i sure do not want to read their obituaries! i am not nice, true, but i sure don't wish death on anyone. maybe a minor stroke, or an absessed tooth, but NOT DEATH!
so, listen up patrons...quit dying on us!!
2 comments:
Yeah, as much as I hate some of the people who come into my store, I wouldn't wish any of them dead. Seriously injured, maybe...
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:-)
As much as I joke about it, I don't like the idea of even my most hated patrons dying.
We have a family that comes in: filthy, ratty hair, look like they have chromosomal problems, inbred, with the bearded mother walking the younger ones on leashes. High maintenance too, always coming in at 5 minutes to close with a list of things they need - ugh! Then one day, the second youngest died in a freak accidental drowning. It broke our hearts. The library sent a card, which we all personally wrote in, and flowers. Some attended the wake. The grandmother came in after receiving the card, asked each and every one of our names so she knew who the people were who wrote something personal in the card, and she thanked us individually. She cried. We cried. It was really moving. And ever since, that family has been nicer to us and we have been nicer back. Despite their truly heinous appearances, I see beyond the dysfunction now and they are all quite tragic. Tragically human.
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