You may have noticed that one thing I tend not to talk about is my lousy work environment. That's because, for the most part, I don't have one. Sure there are the usual clueless patrons and things you'd rather not deal with, but I have to admit that up here in our little corner of the library, I work with a very nice group of people. I don't have any bad lady stories to share, and there really isn't a CFG or BDI among us. We're pretty lucky and we know it.
However, there are days when we have to leave our cocoon of happiness and deal with those who work amongst us in the building. Today was the worst. Today was CAPS LOCK but not LEANED OVER (you'll understand why in a minute) and bold...
THE KEY NAZI (cue scary music: duh -- duh -- DUHHHHH)
While I frolicked in the ocean, TPTB re-keyed the entire building, making it necessary to grovel before the Key Nazi to make the appropriate key switch-a-roo. I couldn't face it yesterday, but decided I had better (to use several overshot sayings) roll the dice, bite the bullet and face the music.
Down I went. (duh -- duh -- DUHHHHH)
After standing at her desk waiting for her to finish jawing with the mail room guy, it was finally my turn.
"I'm here to get my new keys," says I.
"And your last name would be.....?" she asked.
Huh? I've worked here for 15+ years and you still don't know my name? I summoned my super Spidey powers and willed my eyes not to roll out of my head. I took a deep cleansing -- do not go postal -- breath, and told her my last name.
She thumbed through a big wad of paper, slowing down considerably over U and V. I'm certain she was singing the alphabet song to herself until she realized that "V" wasn't quite far enough. Finally, she pulled out my sheet with a whopping six keys taped to the sheet.
Keep in mind I only need three keys. Actually I really only need two since I never lock my office. And why don't I lock my office? First of all, because there isn't anything of value in here that anybody could ever find, and second of all, because I can't find my office key.
Six keys! I take them upstairs to start figuring out where they belong. Office key...good. Room key...yes. Staff lounge key...excellent. Two staff lounge keys? Well, that was odd, but I figured we could use the extra as a replacement for the departmental set the students use. And then there were two keys to offices on the first floor. Where I haven't worked since 1989. DOH. There was also a listing on my key roster for an "F" desk key which isn't taped to my key paper.
I have no locking desk.
I emailed the KEY NAZI to inquire about some departmental keys we still needed and asked about the desk key for the locking desk which I haven't seen since the reign of Bush the First.
Big mistake. (duh -- duh -- DUHHHHH!!!)
In an email so pointed it could take your eye out, I was informed in a no uncertain terms KEY NAZI type way that I was issued a locking desk key on April 14, 1990, and this information had been transferred over to my new key sheet.
Mmmmkay. I think to myself (because I want to LIVE) that I'll go visit the key graveyard and start hunting for a 14 year old desk key for a desk I no longer have. Maybe it's in TinyTuna's box of memories.
Several emails ensue over the next half-hour as to the other departmental key our students need to do helpful things like UNLOCK DOORS to get books and other such trivialities. After bringing back the broomstick from the Wicked Witch of the West, we were finally granted permission to have a departmental key...on the condition that the unit head come and sign for it.
Except the unit head (my boss) is out recovering from major dental surgery.
So I emailed the KEY NAZI yet again (evidently I'm a slow learner)...
(duh -- duh -- DUHHHHH!!!)
...and alerted her to the fact that the unit head was out recovering from surgery, and would it be alright if I picked up the key?
Ho Ho! Big mistake!! (duh -- duh -- DUHHHHH!!!)
I don't know if my error was not asking with the appropriate amounts of sugar-on-top, or pretty-pleases or mother-may-I's or what. Most likely my folly was thinking that I, the lowly Green -- what's your last name?? -- Tuna had any right to think I would EVER be given an extra key.
So, the answer was a faster than a speeding bullet NO, followed by a long drawn out lecture of the RULES of KEYS and who can and CANNOT sign for them. Of course I am the leader of the CANNOT tribe. They would be signed out to the other boss, and when the unit head returned, there would be a transfer of keys.
Complete with signed treaties, flags and tootling horns, no doubt.
The problem is now finally resolved. As I sit here, thankful that I don't have to deal with these people any more than humanly necessary, I am gently fingering my massive metal rosary while I hum the theme song to "Nine to Five". Maybe I can channel the spirit of my missing desk drawer key. First I guess I had better channel the spirit of my missing desk.
Yep. I'll get right on that.