1) Dear Crazy Guy At The Delivery Enquiries Desk at the British Library: We all understand that you thought you’d ordered the books before you got here. We all understand that they’re not here. We all understand that you’re upset because you’ve “come a long way” for them (bah! Americans drive longer distances for tacos than you came to get here).
But bitching at the girl behind the desk isn’t going to help. In fact, in the amount of time you spent bitching about it, you could’ve plopped down on a computer, ordered the damned things, gone outside and gotten some coffee, read a bit of the paper, and come back in to find them waiting on you.
2) George: yesterday I sat next to Crazy Typing Lady (obviously the wife of Mr. Clicky), who would literally BANG on the keys—I kept waiting on her to get a running go at it—for about 10 seconds, and then turn her head 45º and stare blankly at me for a minute while she figured out how next to abuse her poor keyboard.
3) Dear Everyone in London: It was so nice to see all of you on the Piccadilly Line this morning, riding it all the bloody way across town from Gloucester Road to King’s Cross.
Yes, the person who has not yet figured out that those who serve on the frontlines of academia (which includes the circulation/enquiries desk of the library as well as the administrative office of your average academic department) are more capable than anyone else of making your day-to-day life pleasant or hellish and are therefore not to be trifled with…well, that person is not only rude and snobbish, but a full-fledged idiot.