Aside from story time and graham crackers, my job is like day-care. One benefit of this is, I am not having to supervise children. As I have stated before, I am not prone to the care of children, nor do I enjoy the company of the little "booger-eaters," so keeping an eye on adults who are sometimes immature, like children, is okay in my book.
I have told people countless times at my job (I am talking more about the patrons than other co-workers) that cell phone usage is not prohibited within the computer lab, where I work. It gets annoying when you are confined in a small, glassed case full of desks with computer monitors resting upon their frame, and computer towers resting on the floor, and several of the patrons' phones begin to ring, and they do not understand that their phones come with volume control. It's also rather unnerving how predictable some people are.
People can pretty much give off a bad vibe; this revelation is the reason why I can tell which people are going to be problematic, and who is going to be calm. It is all about body-language, and that's self-explanatory. You sense something is wrong with a person if their composure is a little off-the-wall.
Cell phones annoy the shit out of me. They are a god-send, but also a curse. Think of the concept of cell phones - a phone you take with you, that never leaves your side, literally, because of belt-clips you can purchase for your phone to rest comfortably dangling from your pants, or, the simple fact that everyone carries a phone on them, be it in-pocket or outside their clothes. Even kids as young as nine-years-old have cell phones and that just up and scares me. A cell phone is not like a puppy, there to help convey the importance of responsibility. You honestly think a nine-year-old really needs a cell phone? I can imagine how costly that would be, but my assumptions conclude that the only people buying their nine-year-olds cell phones probably do not have to worry about money. What possible reason is there for a nine-year-old to have a cell phone, and not give me that bullshit that, "Well, we now know where she is at all times," because I don't buy that for a second! You bought the kid a cell phone because he or she is spoiled, and, since her friends wear make-up, she thinks she needs make-up, or his friend George is dating already, he should as well...her friend says, "At least my daddy bought me an iPhone..." That's the last thing your pre-teen needs to be: a follower.
I have, unfortunately, some people in my life - friends or friends-of-friends - who insist that I must be up at all times of the night. It amazes me how many phone calls I will receive after midnight when I have my phone set to wake me up at 8 a.m., and I am trying to get to sleep before one in the morning. Sure, it's my fault I use my phone as an alarm clock, but the last time I checked, I bought that fucking phone for three main purposes, they are, one: for emergency phone use, or wanting to talk privately to my friends, two: if I am unable to make a call, I want the option to text message instead, and finally, three: the alarm-function, which is now standard on every cell phone, is a necessity! No, I did not buy a phone for Snake, the outrageously now-unpopular 2-bit game for every phone made in the 90's; why would you even assume I wanted a phone for web-access...what are you looking up on the web that you couldn't look up on a god damn computer!? Oooo, nifty! You got the new jam from Kanye as your ringer - great! Can't wait for you to be in line with me in a crowded establishment, and have your stupid, fucking cell phone go off, and you fucking know it's your phone ringing, but you're grooving to your jam that sounds like it was recorded on a fucking answering machine, taken out and set on fire, then, ripped into a digit file transfer, and uploaded on to your fucking razor! That makes me fucking sick! Why is it that every fucking standard ring-tone on the fucking phone is like some Japanese kid's Final Fantasy soundtrack on crack!? Let me go through a few of these ringers for you; cricket...yeah, that's the ring tone I like - high pitched, fucking bleating...awesome! Let's see...Oh! FUCKING CANADA! That's funny...I don't know another countries' national anthem, but I'll put it on my fucking phone any ways...you hate Canada and you know it!
Here in the lab, we insist and enforce people to shut the ringer off on their phone, and to, once called, remove themselves from the lab quietly, and take the call outside. Some of those people insist to ignore the part about taking the call outside and instead mosey on into the book-stacks. That's a fare compromise, as long as they are quiet.
Some people, I'm afraid, for some odd reason or another, have to yell into their phones. Again, they just are too stupid to comprehend this new device called the cell phone...which has been around since the eighties, only now they are not as big as your arm as they were then. I won't even get into how annoying blue tooth is - "Oh wow, the receiver is an earpiece?! I never would have imagined I would be so worthless of existence to be lazy enough to not be able to hold a fucking cell phone to my ear...BY MYSELF!!!" Makes absolute, perfect sense - let's all go out and buy a useless $60-$100 attachment for our phone, so we don't have to press a button on the phone itself to answer a call or pick the phone up at all! I can see how beneficiary it would be if you were rock-climbing, or if you had only one arm, and even the one that was left did not work right, or you were having your eighth child in-a-row because you're a walking uterus, and only have two arms for two of the kids, while the other five are playing with assorted pits of rusty metal and broken syringes in a sand box filled with fragments of glass and possible fecal matter, considering its location were a back-alley in the Red Light district of Singapore, ripe with sexually transmitted disease and infection, while the one dangling from an umbilical cord, dragging along the ground unnoticed by its mother, is holding on to a severed hand...then I would understand the use of a blue tooth attachment...
It's a waste of money, as is this rant being a waste of someone elses' precious time.
My job can sometimes get the better of me. Patience is a not-so comforting seductress; she has a whip-in-hand, and is giving you a safety-word before you have tamed her. Many o' things can come down to patience. Behavioral problems are sometimes attributed with it. Luckily, my job does not entitle me to have to be patient with people, though it helps. Hell, I could be an asshole, and the benefactor of that would be me being looked upon more as an authority figure because we all know those with authority are assholes. Most of the time, though, if I am more at ease with the job, the job goes quicker; a nine-hour shift seems like four. But the people seem like children having to be led around. How complicated is this transaction: I ask for a first and last name, they give the first and last name, I let them have a computer. Not too hard, right, in fact, infantly simple. But then again, I get people who do not use commonsense. All the computers are left on the desktop screen, so you should be able to just double-click the internet explorer to browse the web. However, a patron will always ask, "Do I have to turn on the computer, or is it already on?" Grinds my gears....so in a sense, yes, my job is like day care for adults, and our rules, even when they seem unnecessary and encroaching, are there for a reason - so the workers of the computer lab do not get annoyed as much. If the rules are in clear view, as they are in the lab, tacked up on the walls, or you are on the honor system, do the right thing. Quit trying to be a martyr!
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