People Are Horrible Lazy Slobs

I'm going to start this post with a simple sentiment: people are gross. 

That is not to say that people, individuals, whatever, do not have regular cleansing schedule and know how to keep themselves germ free and healthy. What I completely do not understand is the general inability of the public to do such simple task of not leaving their shit all over the place. 

Confession. 

I can sometimes be one of those people. Inconsiderate of me, I know, but when I am on that subway, and I have finished with my Timmies Iced Cappachino, I will probably be leaving behind my cup. What? It does not fit into my purse! And it is so inconvenient to have to find something as ubiquitous as a garbage can once I have gotten off the subway. So I leave it behind. Besides, it is not like someone is going to call me one it. And what are the chances that I will be getting on the same subway car on any single given day? Slim too none. Out of sight, out of mind, no longer my problem. Don't you dare lie, I know you do it too. Fess up. 

Possibly not the garbage I am talking about.

But this is exactly where the problem starts. We are not responsible for having to tidy up after ourselves in public spaces. We have garbage pickers to pick up the trash we just cannot seem to manage to get into a garbage can, sidewalk sweepers to catch all those pesky cigarette butts stubbed out on the street, we are no longer even responsible for returning our shopping carts, we leave them for 16 year old's to wrangle and return. The idea of making the effort to do any small measure of keeping our spaces clean... we just bitch and moan about the sheer effort and indignity involved in such a monumental task, and then contract the work out to day laborers and underprivileged youth. And then, we pat ourselves on the back for creating minimum wage part-time jobs and walk away, probably leaving behind empty McDonald's wrappers and yet another smoldering ciggarette butt. 

Aight. So. Library tie in time. 

Theoretically, the library should be a clean place. You know, books are sacred, keep food and drink away from the books (and in this day and age, the computer too please, kthnxbi), treat the books with respect. Dammit  swaddle those motherfucking books like you would an infant.

Now, I understand that putting books back on the shelves is a daunting prospect. Actually, please do not even remotely even think about re-shelving anything, any. thing. We will hunt you down and shoot you for the good of humanity. Or the librarian equivalent of death of being drawn and quartered. But don't worry! To ensure that you do not commit such a heinous act and meet such a dreadfully painful end, we have a helpful cart for all the reject books that you thought you wanted, but actually don't. No worries, books do not have feelings! Or do they? 

Unfortunately, the cart is often left empty. Because it is in a clearly inappropriate, unavailable, and unreachable area of the library. Instead, books are left:

1. on the floor
2. stacked on chairs
3. hidden in the play castle
4. hidden inside our weird circle thingies that might be chairs or might be play equipment? 
5. under benches (still on the floor, but now hard to see and/or retrieve)
6. in the garbage
7. behind shelves

Of course, we also get the smuggled in discarded food wrappers, empty disposable water bottles, chewing gum ever so nicely left re-wrapped in their paper-or sometimes just stuck under tables, apple cores, forks, spoon and other assorted cutlery. Because clearly, the library, full of books that are actually exponentially easier to use when their pages are not crusted together with the juice from that nice hamburger you stealthily ate in the corner, is the place to eat your three course turkey dinner. 

Come on people!

The library is not your home! I mean, we are a nice place, occasionally quiet, and possibly actually cleaner than your own place that you pay for and possibly even maintain. It actually boggles my mind at the sheer amount of disregard that people show towards keeping the library space and contents clean. If I had it my way, which I do not (mores the pity), we would have little magical statues that would start yelling at you if you tried to re-shelve a book, hide a book so as to prevent the shame of placing an unwanted volume on our 'rejected and to be reshelved' book cart, attempt to eat anything and/or leave behind the remnants of a meal, or drop any form of garbage in the library space. And then kill you. If there were no witnesses. Or easily impressionable youth. Remember children: killing is wrong unless you are on a battlefield, and the library is a battlefield. And so is love, apparently. But I digress. 

I would of course be more reasonable towards the smallest of the small children, as they can't even get to the bathroom on their own, which is why we provide them with their own waste receptiveness conveniently attached to their nether-yay-yas. But once they hit the ripe old age of five, there should be some sort of fostered knowledge that garbage cans are where you throw out, well, garbage, and that you do not leave your toys all over the floor for one of your adult slaves to pick up after you. 

Actually, the sad truth is that it is the children who solemnly come up with their books to put on the cart, or with a fistful of garbage to be disposed of. The real culprits are the adults. Because man, they have their own adobes to keep clean, and this other secondary space? Not important. 

Buck adults, we are watching you, and waiting. You don't want to leave poor Polly to fend for herself now, do you?