Not such a great "customer service moment"

OR...yet another rant on "I don't know nothin' 'bout no computers"

I was having a really good day today...or at least a reasonable, fairly quiet, nearly rational day, when a man approached the desk.

I am aware that there are all sorts of reasons, sometimes personal, sometimes cultural, for avoiding eye contact. I'm quite cool with this. There are a lot of teenagers who won't look me in the eye. That's fine, we can converse while gazing into the distance at a 45 degree angle, or staring at our shoes....

But here's another case entirely. The conversation below, unpleasant as it was, was conducted entirely with my breasts. And while I will make no comment on the superlativeness or nonsuperlativeness of my breasts, there is one thing that I know for certain about them: No matter what you say to them, they will not talk back.

Conversation begins:
Perky me: Can I help you?
Mr. Mammary Eyes: Uh yeah, I gotta get ahold of these people 'n I gotta phone number and an email address 'n I don't know nuthin' 'bout no computers.
Confused but still helpful me: Well, if you've got a phone number, and you're uncomfortable using computers, we have a pay phone over in the other wing?
Mr. Mammary Eyes: Um, well, I think I need to email them. Can you set that up for me?.
Me, rebounding a bit: Well, I can put you on the computer and show you the site where you can get free email, but you'll have to read the directions and fill out the form yourself.
Mr. Mammary Eyes: But I don't know nuthin' bout no computers. You gotta do it for me. I don't do that; I don't know how.
Me: (stage direction: at this point I turn on "the voice". I make sure my tone is eminently friendly, helpful and reasonable...this is an extremely useful tool for when I have a funny feeling I am going to have to tell someone I can't help them because it would either be illegal, violate library or reference service policy, or be a danger to myself or someone else.) Well, sir, there is a limit to the amount of help I can provide for you. Like I said before, I can sign you on to the computer, get you to the proper site, but you will have to fill in the forms yourself.
Mr. Mammary Eyes: I'm telling you! You gotta do it for me! I gotta get ahold of these people.
Me: ("the voice" only even slower and more reasonable) That's not a service we can provide, sir.
Mr. Mammary Eyes: So, you're not gonna help me, even though you're just sittin' here doin' nothin.! You're just not gonna help me

Reality check: While this conversation has been going on, three people have come up behind this man and are waiting for help, I've missed two phone calls (with god knows how many waiting behind them in the queue, or already hung up) and I have a huge stack of work I've brought out to the desk with me in case I had any down time. Yeah, I'm doing nothing.

Me: Sir, I have a responsibility to help not only you, but any other people that need help either at the desk or on the phone. I can't be out doing your work for you at the computer because then I wouldn't be providing service to the people who come to the desk; I wouldn't be able to get the phone. It's my job to serve everybody. I told you what I could do to help. I can sign you on to the internet. I can show you a site where you can get free email. You will have to fill out the forms yourself.
Mr. Mammary Eyes: You're just not gonna help me are you! Just sit there and not help me! I'm sorry I even asked you!

So, now I am the evil unhelpful biatch from hell. He storms off towards the elevator and the next closest department--to complain about the "evil biatch over there"? (But at least he's finally stopped staring at my breasts.)

A word to the wise: a coworker tells me this man might also be looking for a "bright young man" to help him search public records to find his 'sister'. Wanted us to do it for him the other day and got belligerent when told that the library could show him books on how to search public records and some websites, but that he would have to do it himself. Forewarned is forearmed.