Avery International Airport

Desk this hour. I was hoping for Desk because I've been doing thesis research for the hour before my shift started but that ended up in a nap, more or less. Followed by perusing the Lanvin S/S 2010 show as part of Paris Fashion Week at nymag.com. Since my thesis is related to fashion, I feel like browsing current fashion shows is "helpful" and "supplementary."

Have relocated to checking IDs at door. Everyone has their own way of greeting patrons at the door. A lot of GAs just look up, then look back down; others do the head nod; all silent. I play Secretary when I'm up here. A typical exchange goes down as such: patron enters, I say Hi, and do my best attempt at a smile where my nonexistent cheekbones really stand out. Patron fumbles for ID. I patiently wait, pretending not to notice receipts or change flying from their purse or wallet. "Sorry, it's here somewhere." I giggle, or smirk, or a combination of the two. Patron flashes ID; I nod and say Thank You. If I'm familiar with the patron, the same scenario goes down but they usually have their ID at the ready and I may ask "How's it going?" If you re-enter and I'm still at the door, I make you show your ID still (unless you are a dick and left your wallet inside), but I do a little shruggy thing and roll my eyes a bit, like, "Yes, I know you, isn't this ID policy harsh, lolol, etc." I do not limit myself by patron's gender; I am flirtatious with everyone.

Once a man told me that it would be much more convenient for us to have an ID scanner a la Butler. Clearly this man did not realize where he was. Avery is not just a library or any other campus building; it is a courtship. You need to make person-to-person interaction in order to start a relationship here. The scan is a one-night stand, where you don't have to place a name with a face, or worry about encountering them again the next day - naivete, I call it. This is sophisticated, look-me-in-the-face-to-make-sure-I-am-who-my-ID-says-I-am, committment.

Shit went down later on. A girl walks in, standard mess of hair, cut-off denim. She has forgotten her ID. It's around 5pm; I tell her that what she needs to do is go to the Library Information Office and obtain a Visitor's Pass. "But I'm not a visitor, I'm a student," she says, at this point halfway through the entrance bar (it swings out, saloon-style). "I realize that, but we have a strict policy that if you do not have a Columbia student ID on you, you need to obtain a Visitor's Pass. They are open until 6." At this point she starts the privileged-white-girl temper tantrum and starts yelling to me that this is ridiculous, she has to look up one book, she's late to class, do I want to see her state-licensed ID (WHY THE FUCK WOULD THAT HELP ME?), this isn't an airport, bitch bitch bitch. I tell her that we make exceptions for no one, and if she takes one more step inside I am going to call the reserves desk and have them stop her, like airport security. At this point, my boss walks back inside from his break. He sees this ho yelling at me, so I explain the situation as quickly as I can before she starts yelling again, in the red zone. "No," he says, simply, to Lara Flynn Boyle, "you need a visitor's pass to come in." She goes ballistic; as my boss crosses the entrance bar, she tries to push past him and he drops it on her. She yells This is fucking crazy, and then - the best part - tries to push open the door ON THE RIGHT! Everyone who has ever been to Avery knows that The Door on the Right DOES NOT OPEN! So she is puuuuuushing and puuuuuuuushing and at this point might light on fire, so she pounds her fist on the door and tries the left side. Which does open, but is an automatic door, so you need to put some back into it. Finally she stumbles out and I hope that we ruined her entire day and Columbia career.