Apparently, Today’s Librarians Now Guzzle Down $4 Mojitos and Can’t Wait to Tell You About Funeral for a Friend

New York Times: “On a Sunday night last month at Daddy’s, a bar in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, more than a dozen people in their 20s and 30s gathered at a professional soiree, drinking frozen margaritas and nibbling store-bought cookies. With their thrift-store inspired clothes and abundant tattoos, they looked as if they could be filmmakers, Web designers, coffee shop purveyors or artists.”

I don’t know what to be more alarmed by in this article: the Times only just discovering that librarians don’t always live up to the bespectacled stereotype (something that has been common knowledge for quite some time now) or the librarian hipster angle. The last thing you need when asking for a roll of microfilm is some languorous asshole giving you an ironic answer.

“Hi there! How’s it going? Can I get the November 1978 New York Times?”

“1978. Man, that was the year of Lou Reed’s live album. The one where he talks about the origin of ‘Walk on the Wild Side.'”

“Yes. Actually, can I just get the microfilm please?”

“Dude, don’t you dig Reed? Reed is why I moved to New York! Or are you one of those guys who believes a Welshman did most of the work for the VU?”

“I just need the microfilm, thanks.”

“Answer my question: Reed or Cale?”

“Is this Satellite Records or the New York Public Library?”

“I’m not going to give you the microfilm until you lay your cred down, son.”

“Alright, pops. Can you please give me the fucking microfilm before I physically demonstrate the meaning of ‘The Black Angel’s Death Song?'”

(Thanks, Jeff Severs!)

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