Problematic People

I had a "problematic" client at the desk this week. He had a problem, you see, and he had come to the desk with a particular solution in mind.

It wasn't the only solution. It wasn't the best solution. It wasn't even a particularly good solution. In fact, it was a terrible solution, due largely to the fact that it was impossible.

However, it was the solution he wanted, and the only one he was willing to accept. He made it perfectly clear that he thought poorly of us for being unable to offer him this solution, and he looked down upon all other proffered solutions with scorn and derision, declaring that they, too, were problems.

The problem, as he saw it, was the fact that we offered a book in electronic format when he would have preferred it to be in print. His solution was for us to magically create a print version for him, so that he could read it more conveniently.

I think he believed this was as simple as pressing "print" on the electronic book and having the entire thing shoot out of a printer for his reading pleasure. My attempts to explain the issues involving copyright and paper consumption fell on deaf ears. He was much more interested in expressing his disbelief that anyone would even want to look at an electronic book. My attempts to explain the benefits for distance education students left him similarly unimpressed.

I think the real problem was the fact that he didn't know how to work the thing - and he didn't want to. The fact that he would have to in order to read the book? Well, that was tantamount to a personal affront.

The really interesting thing about this client (to me) wasn't the fact that he would rather deal with a print book than learn how to use something electronic - you get that sort of thing all the time. It was the fact that he was a fairly young French guy, and I found these things made him more annoying.

His youth made me feel as if he simply wasn't trying hard enough. I felt like saying "Dude, you're what? Thirty-five? Learn a new trick." While, at the same time, his French accent, used with such grumpy tones, just made him sound petulant. By the time I had finished trying to serve him, I felt like slapping him.

I didn't slap him, of course. I tried to keep smiling and sounding like a nice professional librarian. I think it's important for people to know that their librarians might be smiling, but there's a good chance they still want to hit you over the head with a blunt object. It might encourage a firmer grip on reality.