Clerking 6
Your Clerk
I will give you the benefit
of the doubt, when you come to me instead of the self check out machines saying
that you prefer the personal touch, or that you want to protect my job, you
have the best intentions. You aren’t just avoiding doing the work yourself. You
aren’t afraid of failing to manage a machine that 5-year olds and the
developmentally disabled handle with aplomb. You just care. Thank you. I honor
your kindly attentions. I do. I bristle only at that which you could not possibly
have known: that machine is my colleague.
Just like me you are free to
dislike certain of my colleagues, bemoan them, and be endlessly irritated by
them. But also like me you are not free to reject them out of hand. When I look
on the schedule and see that I am to work my shift with a colorless,
inefficient and oblivious clerk, that is my lot. When you wander up to the desk
and that same clerk is the person available to help, that, I’m afraid, is your
lot too. There are conditions under which you can and, sometimes, should, with
firm insistence, move on to another clerk. But let me warn you, these
conditions are surprisingly rare. Of my hundreds of co-workers over thirteen
years I have never heard one swear or even seriously raise their voice non-simultaneously
with the patron. Also, I have never seen one threaten a patron. These would be
times to move on and when you do I will be completely on your side. Indeed, it
will likely be a fascinating and exciting event for me, but, like I said, I’ve
yet to see a good incident of it. Likewise you can move on if you reach an
impasse with your clerk and you are in the right. You must give it a fair shot-
that is fully argue your case a couple of times, and, most importantly, you
must be right. That done you are truly entitled to move on and I will be very
kind, solicitous, and helpful to you, and very unbristly (except, perhaps, to
the clerk who wronged you). But, as I said, you must be right, and this will be
true in only about five or ten percent of these cases. This is not because
clerks are smarter than you (some are, some aren’t), rather it comes down to
two simple issues. One, we are vastly better informed as to policy, and, two,
most importantly, we clerks are, except in very small ways, quite disinterested.
I know in detail exactly what you need to get a library card and, except for
either not wanting to do the work of getting you a library card or, as a decent
person, wanting you to be able to get that card, I really, really don’t care. You,
on the other hand, don’t know the policy other than you think it should be
whatever it needs to be so that you get a card. This will seem the height of
reasonable to you because you want a card, which is the most reasonable thing
in the world. It is human nature and applies so strongly to things like fines
that you will quite nearly be able to create false memories of dates and trips
to the library.
Anyway, those are the
conditions under which you may get yourself a new clerk (or, I suppose, if you
must, a manager). Everything else, I’m afraid, is not just cause. Is your clerk
too smiley or not smiley enough, deranged looking, is their head covered in
scabs, are they sullen, slow, a chatterer, sporting a confusing accent,
insisting on telling you about their spleen problems? Do you know they’re an
ex-con, or see that they’re tattooed to look like maggots are crawling out of
their flesh? Do they smell bad, or, perhaps, refreshingly of gin, are they
completely armless, maybe devoid of personality? Are they a machine? I’m sorry,
but they are your clerk until they fail you. I’m over here if you need me.
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