Last night, a man approached me at the reference desk. He looked nervous.
"As a responsible adult, I feel I need to say something."
I furrowed my brow, hoping I looked concerned. "Yes, sir?"
"There is a group of kids sitting back there by the window and they are tipping back in their chairs really far. They might fall." It seemed he was approaching a hand-wringing level of anxiety.
I blinked at him. Twice. "Are they being loud?"
(I knew this bunch of little delinquents. They come in with their skateboards, reeking of cigarette smoke and I have to kick them out on a regular basis for being assholes. The last time because they were running through the stacks shouting "PENIS!" at the tops of their lungs and the time before that was because they were pounding on the windows like baboons in the zoo. Their newest endeavor is writing obscenities with sidewalk chalk in the employee parking lot - open letters for their favorite librarians, I guess.)
"No! They are tipping back in their chairs! It's not safe."
I smiled, probably a bit more maliciously than I intended. "Well, you let me know when they fall. I'd be more than happy to call an ambulance if necessary."