The Downtown Library

Last night Joey and I decided to go check out the downtown library.  Supposedly it's supposed to be one of The Things To See when you come to Dallas, and they have a signed copy of the Declaration of Independence on display.

Because I was the one who got directions from Google, we wound up taking the long way.  (When I say "long way" I mean that we did three sides of a box to get there instead of a more direct route.)

Once we found the library (and found the parking garage, even more of a challenge!), we discovered that we had to pay to park.  Now that's taxpayer dollars at work for you, right there.

We were slightly piqued that we had to pay at all, and our library trip was starting to go downhill.

I should mention that Joey and I have been soundly displeased with the Dallas Public Library thus far.  The card catalog system is the most confusing thing I've ever tried to use, it took 3 months for me to get a book I'd requested from another branch of the library (and it wasn't lost!), and thus far I haven't actually been able to find any of the books I'm looking for in my branch.  Most of the books they have (or don't have) are either checked out or lost.

Sigh.  Des Moines had the best public library system, I really miss it.

So there we were, getting out of our car in the parking garage under the library.

"Why did they put a dropped ceiling in here?"  I asked Joey. "It's all gray and dirty from the car pollution."

"I don't know," Joey said, as he usually does when I ask questions that he can't possibly answer because he's not a mind reader.

We walked into the elevator enclosure and were encountered by a really bored looking security guard.  I don't think she ever moved while we walked past her; I'm not sure she was actually alive. She might have just been a mannequin to try to intimidate people.

In the elevator there were nine floors.  I had high expectations that we'd have nine levels of books.

The elevator doors opened and we were deposited into a large, dimly lit, open room.  Books filled half of it and the other half was the checkout area, used bookstore, and computers.

I need to mention that some extremely tacky people were using their computers.  Seriously, somebody needs to monitor what shady guys are looking at on computers that I paid for with my tax dollars.  (Not a lot of my tax dollars yet, but still.  A little decency.)

We went up to the kids section and were politely informed by the librarian that this section was for children up to age 14 and we didn't fit the qualifications.  He really was very nice, but I was quite taken aback.  He was basically telling us to leave.

Joey asked him to look up a book, I asked him to look up a book (the entire library system didn't have either!) and we left, just like he wanted.

We then went downstairs to find the fiction section.  I was informed that the books on the first level were all the books the main library had.  Period.

It was smaller than Kirkendall.

Joey and I, frustrated with what we had hoped to be a lovely and enjoyable adventure, left before we could find out if that copy of the Declaration of Independence was really there or not.

We didn't think it really was.

Our analysis of the downtown branch: a place for teenagers, homeless people and otherwise bored individuals to surf the internet, but not check out any books as there are very few to be had.

I'm sorry to be harsh on any public library, but there it is: don't waste your time!  Half Price Books and the church library is a better bet if you're actually looking for something to read.