I don't know if you can help me, but....

Someone came up to me at the reference desk today and asked where he could find some books. To a person who got a master's degree in library science, this seems like a very silly question. Heck, to most people who are in a university this seems kind of easy. That is, unless you don't know what a library catalog is and how to search it. So, I politely showed him how to access it on our web page and search for books by title or author or ISBN. He was mainly hoping to find textbooks for his classes, which we don't normally buy (because they go out of date quickly and people steal them). I explained our policy for purchasing materials and how he might go about obtaining the stuff we don't have for free or at least cheaper than going to the bookstore.

He was impressed. Actually, he was flabbergasted. I had just altered his universe. He would not be the same. With all kinds of astonishment he sheepishly wondered if I could help him find out who owns certain drilling rights to plots of land.

"Certainly, my good sir, but it might take me a few days."

"OMG! How come no one knows about you?! Do the professors? Because no one told me!"

I told him that I get paid to find out the answers to his questions, and that if I couldn't find out directly, then I would refer him to the most appropriate source that could in an endless cycle until he was satisfied. "We teach you how to find and access information on any topic you can think up." This guy was easily entertained, because this left him walking out on cloud nine. He seemed to be more confident and I think I noticed a little more strut to his step.

This actually happened to me today and isn't just some sick librarian fantasy. But I have to wonder, how many people actually know about the services of a library and take them for granted? It's hard to say, and I'm not sure I could find an answer to that question easily. The point is, though, that I would try. I would try my brains out and then some if a person really wanted to know. Seriously, that is what we all get paid to do.

There is an art to dealing with information professionals, though. You can't just walk up to any person behind a library desk, ask "Why do fools fall in love?" and expect to get a cheerful, excited professional to engage you in a reference interview to get to the bottom of the question and get to the top of the answer. Many people in these positions are not as happy-go-lucky as me. They might be bitter old spinsters who hate people worse than they hate book mold, which can rot in the seventh pit of hell for all they care. This happens because their supervisor hasn't the guts to assign them to the back room to hug the books all day long. (Books need hugs, too, you know.)

But how can you tell if a person is like this? You don't want to end up stereotyping someone before you talk to them. Here's the key: Smile at them and see if he or she gives you a genuine smile as you approach them. If so, then you will find someone who can offer to move mountains to find an answer for you. If not, then they will only be willing to point a finger in the general direction of a large, unwieldy reference tome that you most-likely won't know how to use. This is because the smiling person is happy to do their job. They like people and finding information. You just gave them the perfect excuse to feel good about themselves. Good for you.

But wait! Let's say you're going along just fine and hit a roadblock. Yikes, you discover after finding the original text of Edward Everett's Gettysburg Oration that what you really need is how many literary references to it exist. Silly you. Well, then is the time to test the mettle of your information savior. You can't predict what they will do. Even the cheeriest of chums might get a little dismayed and punt that question to someone else. "Go ask our literature person," they might say, thus pawning you off on someone who possibly couldn't care less if you got an answer so long as they got home in time to feed their army of cats. Well, that sucks for you, but should you give up? Not unless you don't care about getting the answer. As in any part of life, persistence is the key to success. Go forth unto another person and persist until someone finds a documented answer to satisfy your curiosity.

To sum up, people exist who get mad paid to answer whatever serious, silly, seriously silly, or dumbass question that fleets through your cocaine-fueled brain. We save you time and hassle, pain and frustration, and (most of the time) make you feel like less of an idiot. Some of us do it with a smile; we are the people to talk to. And if you're an attractive, fun-loving girl who knows kung-fu, then we are the people to playfully flirt with and then boldly ask out on a date (because we're not allowed, see).