CUSTOMER SERVICE RETRAINING in Adventures From Prison

I’ve spent the majority of my working life in some sort of Customer Service position. From manning a cash register at Caribou Coffee, to training Customers one-on-one in the use of our newest software offerings I’ve handled nearly every situation imaginable. Then I became a prison librarian and found that there is a whole new level to the game.
We’re technically not supposed to know why people are here. There are groups like the Aryans who won’t let you play or sit with them unless you provide official paperwork proving that you aren’t a snitch or a child molester, but in this institution that’s pretty much the only exception to the rule. Life here isn’t like other prisons where everyone carries around their paperwork like free-people carry driver’s licenses. Here getting caught by staff with any sort of thing like that (unless it’s yours and you can prove you need it for an appeal) incurs pretty severe punishment. That said, however, things slip and certain facts emerge. Sometimes it’s through a staff screw-up, sometimes that person just tells their story, and sometimes it’s because a case was highly publicized in the media. Most guys here honestly have little to hide. No one here was ever high-ranking enough to be able to snitch out and destroy a drug empire. No one here is violent enough to be considered more dangerous than a drunken frat boy. And as for the “so-called” child molesters? 99% of them did nothing other than look at a few pictures on a computer screen (which, FYI, is according to psychological studies all they will ever do – less than 1% ever cross into any sort of physical contact with minors) so most are just businessmen, retirees, police officers and other respectable career men who got bored and surfed the Net to some dark places. (Personally the drug dealer with a good knowledge of Rotten.com’s video inventory is far creepier to me than a 70 year old looking at a 15 year old girl’s picture he stumbled on one evening then shared with his friends. But that’s just me.) So, for the most part the paperwork game here is nosy, rude and pointless, for the most part. There are exceptions, and when these individuals’ secrets are spilled, well, it makes Customer Service at the library difficult…and a little scary.
“Why do you never have the book I’m looking for? Are you hiding it from me?” Asks the man who got so angry at his little sister that he strangled her kitten in front of her before spraying oven cleaner in her eyes.
“No sir. We don’t do things like that here,” I stammer, grabbing a book at random and tossing it on the counter between us. “Try this one, it’s great.”
He looks down at the book. It’s one of Rita Mae Brown’s stupid cat detective novels. (No joke!).
“I like cats,” he said then smiles creepily.
“I bet you do.”
Later in the day, after faking small talk about Harry Potter with a man who tied up and raped his daughter, The Questioner comes in.
Now for those of you unfamiliar with this particular character, I’ll give you a brief synopsis so you don’t have to dig through the archives: He is an idiot who enjoys asking assine questions such as, “How long is a 10 minute move?” and my favorite, “If the library is closed why can’t I sit in it?” Recently whether because he’s off his meds or because he’s trying to get himself killed; he has taken to asking highly inappropriate questions. His recent queries have gone from “Do you have vagina magazines?” to “I’d like to see “Cunt Weekly” please? To “Do you think Hillary (Clinton) is a dirty whore and that’s why she won’t share her emails?”
On this particular day, he walked up to the counter and loudly asks, “Do you have any books featuring digital rape?”
My jaw dropped.
“Well do you?” he asked.
“That’s sick,” I told him.
“Why? What’s sick about it? Oh, I know! It’s because I said Rape. Sorry. Do you have any books on digital penetration?”
From many sources, I’ve learned that he’s here for driving across state lines to have sex with a “kid” (thankfully, an undercover cop) who was definitely not even close to legal in age.
“Please, just go away,” I told him.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“If you have to ask then you really need to go over to psychology and have a long discussion.” I snipe.
“I thought you don’t believe in censorship.”
“I don’t. However I do believe that there are some individuals here who have allowed sexual thoughts consume them and would seriously benefit from a more celibate lifestyle.”
“I agree,” he said quickly.
“You do?” I said with surprise. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, there are some real sickos here,” he said, then oozed out of the library.
When my boss came in I briefed her on my encounter. She looked at me with confusion. “How do you rape someone digitally? Is that like hacking or something?”
I love my boss, but when it comes to depravity she is hopelessly out of touch.
“What else are fingers known as?” I ask her, wanting her to connect the dots.
“Digits.”
“MmmHmm.” I wait for the light bulb.
“Oh! Oh my Gawd! Did you tell him to get the fuck out of the library?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Actually,” my co-worker chimes in. “Gus said “Please, go away!”
My boss looks at me. “No, Gus, we do not say please to the crazy people because if we do, They. Come. Back!!”
“Sorry,” I said hanging my head. “I’ll try to be ruder next time!”
Prison Customer Service is a whole new adventure!