Tripe

Recently I was told by my boss ( I have not mentioned her before but she is a nice lady. I enjoy her.) that some patrons, one in particular, had some rather biting comments concerning the tidiness of the newspapers, particularly the Plain Dealers. It was about the middle of the month so I really wasn't surprised to hear such a thing. They tend to gradually get more and more disorderly as we approach the middle and the end of the month, after I sort them and throw away the old ones. Now, with all my other responsibilities at work it is important to note that newspapers are the least of my worries.
When I heard that a few patrons had complains about the upkeep of the newspapers I was not quite furious but I was well on my way to being there. Why, you ask? As I stated I have a long list of things that I am worried about doing. I have all these things that I have to worry about, I take my job more seriously than most of the pages working there, I feel like I'm the only one that cares and YOU want to complain about the newspapers? Really? I would love to see that person come and do my job, do all the things that I do and then tell me about the newspapers. These people have no idea what it is like to work for them. They have no idea with what we have to endure: "What's an email?" "How do I get to facebook?" "Do you have this movie?" No, we do not have that movie in but it is also a book. Would you like the book? No?
Curse you people. Plebeians. Philistines. You never want books, real books. The books you want are tripe. TRIPE! You want to read books that are nothing but one long sex scene. Your books have no intriguing plot, with twists and turns. Tripe! To Kill a Mockingbird is a book. Taming of the Shrew is a book. Yours are not books. I'm not saying that the occasional book of this nature is a terrible thing but when it is all you read...truly it fills me with a mixture of despair and frustration. Sex, facebook, and movies...