Erm...

Had one of those mornings at the library, where I felt like a newbie, rather than someone who's worked there for almost eight years. (Eight years?? Let me put that another way... 8 years!! Crikey. Where did that go??)

First thing, a customer asked me to recommend a book. Something to take on holiday. Not too heavy-going.

Erm...I said, eloquently.

Now you'd think working in a library, writing a weekly book review for the local rag, plus being an avid reader and all, I could easily pluck a novel off the shelf and say with some confidence, "what about blah, blah, blah, by Thing ? It's erudite, but witty. The author has drawn heavily on her experiences of shoe-shopping in remote areas, and I think you'll be touched. "

However, the first two books that sprang to mind were already on loan.

"Not much use then," she cackled.

"What sort of thing do you like?" I ventured, breaking out in a light sweat.

"Nothing too Mills & Boony."

"Ah. Family saga?"

"What's that?"

"This..." - I show her a book with a waif in a shawl on the cover.

"Oooh no. Too depressing." (?)

"Not really."

"She's supposed to be good." Points to a Marian Keyes.

"Oh yes, she is."

"They're too thick."

Inward sigh.

"Do you like crime?"

"As long as it's not too gory."

Christ. How am I supposed to know? I haven't read them all.

"Ruth Rendell?"

"Who?"

"Inspector Wexford?"

"Inspector Rendell?"

"...they used to be on the telly."

"Like Diazel and Pascoe?"

"Sort of."

"I prefer watching than reading that sort of thing."

"Horror?" I said.

"Nah."

"Historical?"

"Too much like 'ard work."

"Feel-good?" I said, fingering a Catherine Alliott.

"Never 'eard of 'er.

"She's good though."

"What's she like?" Fingering a Barbara Taylor Bradford.

"Haven't read anything recently, but she's very popular," I said, fingers itching to slap her.

"It's just for the journey."

"What about a travel book? Like a memoir?" Clutching at straws.

"I know!" she said, eyes lighting up. "You do magazines here don't you?"

And off she trotted, mac flapping gently. I felt sad that I hadn't managed to persuade her, yet strangely happy to see the back of her.

"Excuse me," said a scholarly looking gentleman, as I approached the enquiry desk. "Could you help me find a bibliography of fiction published in India pre-1947?"

Erm..

Ever had one of those days??