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Throwback Thursday to 1998
Feb. 13th, 2014 05:30 amAs I was digging around in photos last week looking for something to post, I came across this photo. At first I didn't think it was THAT old and then realized that it was from 1998, some ... wow... 16 years ago.
I was living in Overland Park, KS, working as a chemist for Uncle Sam in a food testing laboratory where I did metals and pesticides analysis on the stuff everyone loved to eat. It was a dreadfully boring job at times, but it kept me busy. Being in the closet and having no real interactions with people outside of work, I decided to stretch myself and volunteered at the local county library. I had a disastrous first day shelving books. An angry circulation desk witch, who mistakenly thought I was a criminal working off some community service, lambasted me for not having my "papers" with me. After I flipped her the metaphorical bird, I went to the volunteer coordinator who moved me to a volunteer-run used bookstore in one of the other branches.
The bookstore was operated by a diminutive, elderly spitfire named Opal and her henpecked hubby "Shorty." My job was to empty the garbage cans that were full of unsellable books, sort donated books, restock the shelves, and run the cash register. Usually around 7 PM to closing, I was on my own in the shop. I bought a ton of books from them over the two years or so I volunteered there. I helped out during the annual book sale, even taking off work to do that. And there were a couple of hottie regular customers who came into the bookstore that I often fantasized about.
Opal and I got along for the most part. She showed me the proper way to box the books so they'd stack without crushing. The problem is that there was no method to her madness and every time I boxed them, even if I followed her directions perfectly, I never got it right in her eyes. At first, I was fine with that, as I was sure my main job was to move things and babysit the shop at night.
My tenure as a volunteer came to a conclusion after a bi-monthly book sale in 1998. I was boxing up books after a long day with all the other volunteers. Opal, being ever the control freak, started shrieking from behind me "NO! NO! NO! LET ME SHOW YOU AGAIN!"
Being chastised like a naughty child in front of everyone embarrassed me. I remember my face feeling flush and my anger rose. I knew that no matter what I did, I'd never have it packed to her satisfaction.
"You know what," I growled, "I don't want to be shown how to box books again, now or ever, as I'll never do it right according to you! So you and the rest just box them up and I'll do what I'm good at, hauling the heavy things back to the storeroom!!"
And that's what happened. They packed the boxes and I dragged them away. Everyone was a bit stunned into silence by my outburst, but I suspect they'd all felt Opal's fury at one time or another. As I recall, I didn't speak to Opal before I left. I was angry. Opal was a library employee, I was a volunteer and I didn't like the condescension.
I went to the volunteer coordinator the following week and gave her two weeks notice. Honestly, I was getting tired of it anyway and the incident was the last push I needed. From what I remember, the coordinator did not seem surprised, so I believe she had been informed by other volunteers about what happened. Opal never apologized. Sweet as she could be, she was never wrong. Never. I said my goodbyes to her and her husband two weeks later on my last night in the bookshop. No fanfare or anything.
After finding this photo, I decided to look on the web to see whatever happened to her. Opal passed away back in 2004 at the age of 75. I imagine she passed away while sorting books, likely after she hurled a 3-inch 2001 tax law book into the trash can from across the room. She had great aim and rarely missed, her last bit of moxie used up doing something she enjoyed doing.
I was living in Overland Park, KS, working as a chemist for Uncle Sam in a food testing laboratory where I did metals and pesticides analysis on the stuff everyone loved to eat. It was a dreadfully boring job at times, but it kept me busy. Being in the closet and having no real interactions with people outside of work, I decided to stretch myself and volunteered at the local county library. I had a disastrous first day shelving books. An angry circulation desk witch, who mistakenly thought I was a criminal working off some community service, lambasted me for not having my "papers" with me. After I flipped her the metaphorical bird, I went to the volunteer coordinator who moved me to a volunteer-run used bookstore in one of the other branches.
The bookstore was operated by a diminutive, elderly spitfire named Opal and her henpecked hubby "Shorty." My job was to empty the garbage cans that were full of unsellable books, sort donated books, restock the shelves, and run the cash register. Usually around 7 PM to closing, I was on my own in the shop. I bought a ton of books from them over the two years or so I volunteered there. I helped out during the annual book sale, even taking off work to do that. And there were a couple of hottie regular customers who came into the bookstore that I often fantasized about.
Opal and I got along for the most part. She showed me the proper way to box the books so they'd stack without crushing. The problem is that there was no method to her madness and every time I boxed them, even if I followed her directions perfectly, I never got it right in her eyes. At first, I was fine with that, as I was sure my main job was to move things and babysit the shop at night.
My tenure as a volunteer came to a conclusion after a bi-monthly book sale in 1998. I was boxing up books after a long day with all the other volunteers. Opal, being ever the control freak, started shrieking from behind me "NO! NO! NO! LET ME SHOW YOU AGAIN!"
Being chastised like a naughty child in front of everyone embarrassed me. I remember my face feeling flush and my anger rose. I knew that no matter what I did, I'd never have it packed to her satisfaction.
"You know what," I growled, "I don't want to be shown how to box books again, now or ever, as I'll never do it right according to you! So you and the rest just box them up and I'll do what I'm good at, hauling the heavy things back to the storeroom!!"
And that's what happened. They packed the boxes and I dragged them away. Everyone was a bit stunned into silence by my outburst, but I suspect they'd all felt Opal's fury at one time or another. As I recall, I didn't speak to Opal before I left. I was angry. Opal was a library employee, I was a volunteer and I didn't like the condescension.
I went to the volunteer coordinator the following week and gave her two weeks notice. Honestly, I was getting tired of it anyway and the incident was the last push I needed. From what I remember, the coordinator did not seem surprised, so I believe she had been informed by other volunteers about what happened. Opal never apologized. Sweet as she could be, she was never wrong. Never. I said my goodbyes to her and her husband two weeks later on my last night in the bookshop. No fanfare or anything.
After finding this photo, I decided to look on the web to see whatever happened to her. Opal passed away back in 2004 at the age of 75. I imagine she passed away while sorting books, likely after she hurled a 3-inch 2001 tax law book into the trash can from across the room. She had great aim and rarely missed, her last bit of moxie used up doing something she enjoyed doing.
