My very first (paid) job was at the Montclair (NJ) Public Library, Main Branch. I was a page. I shelved books for three hours after school during my freshman year at Montclair High School, Tuesdays and Thursdays. It sucked. It wasn’t the time commitment or even the concept of work that bothered me, wasn’t the rolling around of carts laden with Stephen King and Isaac Asimov and the collected works of Jacqueline Susann and Volume 17 of the Encyclopedia of the Natural World (“Our Friends In The Plant Kingdom”); wasn’t the dry feeling on my hands after spending an afternoon unbending bent spines while silently judging the kids who hung out in the library for fun, as if there weren’t a perfectly good mall for making out and complaining about teachers only a few miles away.

It was the fact that I simply didn’t want to work there. I’d wanted another job, and this was a sad, sad substitute. I Can’t Believe It’s Not The Job I Wanted, you could say.

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According to PSFK, the Prince Charles Cinema in London has come up with a, shall we say, interesting way to enforce quiet during movies.

Ninjas are involved. Naturally.

“During a film, if you start chatting to your friend or send a text from your phone, they will appear by your seat and give you a warning to stop disturbing those around you.”

These volunteers get free admission in return, although I’m not sure how comfortable the movie-watching experience is while wearing a black lycra suit.

This wouldn’t go over very well in the states, methinks. I’m not a particularly violent person, but a ninja would get punched in the damn face. Shit.

(Photo credit: wittco.gmbh on Flickr)