I
never thought I would become 'unwelcome' at my childhood library.
The
Bixby library holds many precious memories for me. It's where I
signed my first library card after weeks of practicing cursive. It's
where Mom made the 'only as many books as you are old rule' and the
later 'you also have to be able to carry them all' amendment. I've
explored those stacks, worked in those stacks, and returned to them
over and over. College, multiple remodels and my favorite librarians
retiring didn't break my relationship.
I've
managed to keep my card active through a combination of a) having
parents who work in Tulsa county or b) living or attending school in
Tulsa county. While I didn't always NEED to visit, I can't remember a
time when I didn't have the fall back of the resources. (I also
mooch wifi regularly.)
On
New Years Eve 2018, however, I needed a computer. The backstory is
long and involves waking up at dark-thirty and a rescued dog. I went
to the computers... and realized I'd forgotten the password after two
years.
Well,
one explanation and a sales pitch later, I stormed out of the
library. My sanctuary had been reclaimed by the city of Tulsa. If you
can't produce a pay-stub or proof of address, there's a fee to use
the computers and a even bigger fee if you want a working library
card.
“Sorry
it's policy. It's just out of my hands.” The librarian was very
professional and polite. Unfortunately, she ran smack into that
emotional baggage labeled Issues. (yes, with a capital 'I') Short
version, my brain burped up a lot of unpleasant feelings and
memories.
I've
bulldogged through college administration, a string of idiot doctors,
and the Social Security Application process. 'Out of my hands' is a
trigger phrase. It means my paperwork is in limbo; that someone who
never met me thinks I've hit the cut off point; or, most often, it's
time to fight nasty.
The
library isn't the place for fighting. So I excused myself before I
made a bigger scene than snapping 'Screw this noise!” at the fees
for internet access. (At $2 for a 90 minute session, it's cheaper to
burn through my cellular data.) Not very mature, that I'll admit.
However, I'd just had the rug yanked out from under me.
In
a previous rant, I talk about how internet and a functioning computer
are a must for modern life. Suddenly, I get why the homeless and
unemployed are stuck waiting in lines. They CAN'T browse the status
of local or government support networks. They CAN'T book a online
chat session. Waiting in line for somebody to verbally explain things
is the best option. (Two dollars can also buy a lot of different
things when you're on the poverty line, trust me.)
The
library is an invaluable resource of how-to-books, genealogy records,
philosophy and entertainment. However, it's not free or free access.
What was I thought was my second home, turned out to be a private
club; once again, I'm an outsider.
Now,
a cooler head would swallow their outrage and pay for the membership.
I am calmer, I could scrap up the money... but I'm too embarrassed to
ask for one. A skinny, trilby-wearing brunette is pretty memorable. I
gonna wait a few months before I go back. (If I take off my hat,
nobody will recognize me.)
I
don't want to be pegged as the lady who yelled in the library.
