Pleasing Some of the People Some of the Time
The Challenger from the Library PC Turf Wars was back in the (corner desk) saddle yesterday. . . and completely ready to explode after screwing up the log-in for another computer--the patrons aren't supposed to log off when they're done, just close any open apps--and then not being able to print what she wanted. The reference librarian who is the computer guru had left for lunch right before I came in.
Two of my co-workers were trying to get the screwed-up computer back online, and were struggling with unclear directions, so I offered to sit down and work through it. Figured it out pretty quickly, so that was good.
Then, I patiently worked with the Challenger on her printing problems. Turns out it was the same old problem--there was a job holding up the queue, and nobody at the circ desk, where the printer is located, seems to understand how to resolve the problem (most often by hitting Continue). The Challenger was getting all flustered from going back and forth from the computer to the printer and coming up with nothing. (Kinda serves her right for picking the computer farthest away from the circ desk.) I often wonder if elderly people, feeling that life is short, get impatient and short-tempered as a result. Or maybe it comes from not feeling well.
Once I brought her print job (jobs--it printed 3x) to her, she was happy as a clam. For the moment, anyway.
So there you have it: I had to fix both problems when nobody else on staff could. I wish word would get around about that sort of successful thing instead of everything I seem to do "wrong."
Well, this afternoon I bought eight pounds of hot dogs, tons o' buns, and chips for the kids' carnival this Saturday. 'Cuz I'm the only one with a warehouse member's card. That oughta make somebody happy with me.
Two of my co-workers were trying to get the screwed-up computer back online, and were struggling with unclear directions, so I offered to sit down and work through it. Figured it out pretty quickly, so that was good.
Then, I patiently worked with the Challenger on her printing problems. Turns out it was the same old problem--there was a job holding up the queue, and nobody at the circ desk, where the printer is located, seems to understand how to resolve the problem (most often by hitting Continue). The Challenger was getting all flustered from going back and forth from the computer to the printer and coming up with nothing. (Kinda serves her right for picking the computer farthest away from the circ desk.) I often wonder if elderly people, feeling that life is short, get impatient and short-tempered as a result. Or maybe it comes from not feeling well.
Once I brought her print job (jobs--it printed 3x) to her, she was happy as a clam. For the moment, anyway.
So there you have it: I had to fix both problems when nobody else on staff could. I wish word would get around about that sort of successful thing instead of everything I seem to do "wrong."
Well, this afternoon I bought eight pounds of hot dogs, tons o' buns, and chips for the kids' carnival this Saturday. 'Cuz I'm the only one with a warehouse member's card. That oughta make somebody happy with me.
Comments
Cullen--yeah, and even constructive criticism 24/7 is a bit much.