In Which I Confront a Fear of Mine

...and that is confrontation itself.

I know my own mother would say, "You? Not like confrontation? Ha!" and she would be justified. But the thing is this: I know my mother, and she knows me. She knows that most of the time my "confrontation" is all in good fun. What I don't like and tend to shy away from at any cost is real confrontation. The nasty kind where you have to tell someone to stop doing whatever it is they're doing.

Like drinking coffee in the library. And preparing to whip out a full lunch and spread it out on the table.

I spent about ten minutes just kind of discreetly circling around this guy, threading my way through the stacks, (okay that sounds so creepy. I was doing other stuff besides watching him, lest I appear stalkerish...sheesh) debating whether or not to say something, and how to say it and if he'd get mad at me or if I'd look like a stupid teenager, etc. Finally, I got my supervisor, and told him what was going on. I confess...I had ulterior motives: I wanted to pass the buck. I was hoping that E, being a tallish male person, would, you know, step up and say, "Oh hey! Don't worry about it, little buddy! I'll go over myself and tell that guy to get his butt--and his lunch--out of the library."

What he said instead was this, "You know, we have been asked to enforce the no-eating rule. So just go tell the guy that we've had some problems lately but that he's welcome to go out and eat in the foyer."

Argh. Another five minutes vacillating. Do I tell him do i dont do i tell him do i not do i tell him...

Yes. integrity demands that i do. So I straighten my collar and march over, donning my most winsome smile. Sometimes it helps to march somewhere. It bolsters courage and creates a sense of purpose where, perhaps, there is little. Well anyway, knowing that I couldn't look authoritative, I decided to go for "professional." Or something close to it...

The guy left without any problem, even though he had already unpacked and set up his laptop and everything. I felt bad. Really. I felt bureaucratic. I wasn't in the mood to enforce policy. And what's more, I was scared to death. But I did it.

And I felt justified when I saw him come back in a little later. I guess i didn't offend him. Which is--you know--a good thing.