Friday afternoon, I’m in the process of locking up a reference cabinet. At the same time, rather than wait for me to finish and move out of the way, my 6’5″ ILL clerk hook-shots a discarded hard cover into the cardboard box marked ‘Hospital’ which rests directly above where I’m standing about eight feet high on top of this same cabinet. Luckily, the book sails directly into the box.
One clerk sees this & says “That would’ve been nice: You miss, it hits Bill, he’s out for a month.”
My cataloger chimes in “Yeah, but now we’re talking brain damage. You gotta have a brain to begin with!”
He’s calling his boss brainless, and in his presence. That’s political suicide. Which is why they do it. That’s why it’s funny. What’s he got to lose? A dollar-a-day prison job?
About 10 minutes later, the cataloger’s there (doing nothing, BTW) when I again walk into this office for something. “How you doing?” I ask. But I’m almost out of the room before it dawns on me to add “And thanks for calling me an idiot 10 minutes ago, appreciate it.” We laugh.
My point is, I was going to just come in, do my thing, and go back to my law library office without comment. His previous ‘insult’ never phased me.
I say to my bookbinder in passing:
“Amazing, how many times we slag each other off without taking offense. It’s just taken in stride.”
“Think so? You’re probably right….Nah. Just bind your books.”
The bookbinder laughs. For a polite and quiet man, he has a decidedly boisterous, explosive laugh. Which I proceed to tell him. But not in those words.
“Hey, nice laugh. Keep it to yourself, please.”
More boisterous laughter. “I guess there’s no hope of the slagging lessening off!”
Abandon Hope, all ye who enter here.