"I'm delusional. That's why I'm calling you."

This essay, linked to by the current issue of Library Juice, got me to thinking about a series of "reference" telephone calls received by me and other librarians at Suburban Public Library. The caller usually begins by asking what sounds like an actual reference question (e.g., "I need to know the telephone number for my representative"). But before the librarian taking the call has time to check a webpage or directory of goverment officials, he's off on some other tangent, usually having to do with some military subject. And then another tangent. And so on.

A representative sample, reconstructed by memory:

"I saw this picture in a magazine, but I don't know which magazine. There were these three soldiers. Can you tell me who they were? One of them looked Portuguese. I mean, mercenaries are usually white, aren't they? I need to know how many blacks have won the medal of honor. Oh sh*t, I just dropped my cigarette, gonna burn the f*ckin' place down. Do you know anything about parachutes? I'm delusional, that's why I'm calling you...."

Fortunately, if the call is picked up by the answering machine, he usually rambles on and on until the message ends in mid-sentence, and never leaves a callback number, thus absolving the librarian on duty from having to call him back.

Obviously, the fellow's suffering from some pretty serious mental and/or substance-abuse problems. And it wouldn't be the first time that someone very lonely and isolated had latched onto the idea of calling the local library reference desk just to be able to talk with some other human being. But it's difficult to know quite how to respond, especially when he starts asking for personal names. Do I want to become this fellow's favorite librarian?