The Uterus Knows All
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA, UTAH | HEALTHY | JANUARY 27, 2021
When I was pregnant with my first child, I 100% knew that it was a girl, and she was, but had no idea with my second baby, who happened to be a boy. When I got pregnant with my third child, I was once again sure that it was a girl. We are living in a different city so this is my first experience with this particular doctor.
We go in to check for the baby’s sex.
Doctor: “Are we hoping for a girl or for a boy?”
Me: “I know this baby is a girl.”
Doctor: “Congratulation s! It’s a boy!”
Me: “Nope.”
Doctor: “Um, what?”
Me: “I know that this is a girl.”
Doctor: “Noooo… it’s a boy. You can see why right here.”
Me: “No. It’s for sure a girl.”
The doctor has clearly never been in this situation before.
Doctor: “Um, well, I guess that could be the umbilical cord but I’m 97% sure that it isn’t.”
Me: “I’m sorry to challenge you, but I seriously know that this baby is a girl.”
Doctor: *Grumbling* “I guess we can wait a few weeks and do another ultrasound. But it will be a waste of time, for you and me.”
Me: “Let’s do that.”
Two weeks later, we went back and did another ultrasound. It was a girl. We didn’t use him for delivery. I couldn’t use a doctor who wouldn’t at least entertain the possibility that I was right.
Not The Sharpest Bigot
RETAIL | RIGHT | NOVEMBER 13, 2012
(I’m walking around the store seeing if any shoppers need help.)
Me: “Excuse me, sir, are you finding everything all right today?”
Customer: *turning* “Oh, what the f*** is this?”
Me: “Um… what is what?”
Customer: “I haven’t been helped by a single American since I got here. Are you people even hiring whites?”
(Our town has a regrettably accurate reputation for being somewhat racist. Customers often ignore non-white employees or refuse their aid. I’m of Indian descent, but was born and raised a few miles away in Phoenix.)
Me: “Sir, all our employees are American citizens. If you don’t need help, though, I’ll just go.”
Customer: “Hang on, where’s your manager’s office?”
(I point.)
Customer: “Good!”
(Without warning, he grabs my arm and drags me forcefully to the office. He pushes it open without knocking.)
Customer: “You need to arrest this man! He’s an illegal!”
(My manager turns in her chair. She’s got light brown skin, and is often mistaken for Hispanic.)
Manager: “Sir, I know for a fact [my name] is a citizen. And you need to take your hands off him right now.”
Customer: *not letting go* “Oh my God! They’ve got a Mexican in charge. No wonder you don’t hire whites!”
Manager: “Sir, more than half of my employees are white. Now let [my name] go or I will call the police.”
Customer: “Are you threatening me? I’m a real American, you can’t threaten me!”
(At this he pulls out a Swiss Army knife and points it at her.)
Manager: “No, I’m not. Would you like me to?”
(Without warning, she draws a knife of her own from nowhere and slams it point-first into the desk.)
Manager: “That’s one. I’m carrying nine. Let him go.”
(The customer goes pale and releases both my arm and the knife.)
Manager: “Thank you.”
(Instead of letting him go, my manager locked him in the office and called the police, who came and arrested him for assault and threatening with a weapon. As they were leading him out, my manager stopped him for a moment.)
Manager: “And by the way, I’m not Hispanic, I’m Romani. If you’re going to be a racist, at least learn the difference.”
A Hazy Legal Maze
AT THE CHECKOUT, CRIMINAL & ILLEGAL, GROCERY STORE, UNDERAGED, USA | RIGHT | DECEMBER 18, 2009
Customer: “What cigarettes would you recommend?”
Me: “I’m actually only 16. I don’t smoke.”
Customer: “Oh.. Well, then, which cigars are your favorite?”
Came To Within An Inch Of Getting It Right
FAST FOOD, RESTAURANT | RIGHT | MARCH 6, 2014
(After working late shifts at the local discount retailer, I pull into a fast-food drive thru.)
Drive Thru Worker: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. May I take your order?”
Me: “Hi, I’d like a six-inch nugget, please.”
(There are a couple seconds of silence, and then I hear the speaker turn on and I hear some laughter and giggles in the background.)
Drive Thru Worker: *barely able to speak without giggling* “Uh… Could you repeat your order?”
Me: “I’d like a six-inch nug— OH, MY GOD! No! I want a SIX-PIECE nugget!”
(I complete my order and pull around to see the worker and two of his coworkers red-faced and trying to contain their laughter. In the mean time, I’m no better; my face was red with embarrassment. I pay and get my food, and I couldn’t have gotten out of that queue fast enough! I guess I subconsciously wanted to go to the sub shop that night.)
Snacking On A Bad Attitude
FAST FOOD, RESTAURANT | RIGHT | MARCH 19, 2015
(I work in a busy branch of a fast food place. When customers order burgers, it’s store policy to ask if they would like it as part of a deal, which is cheaper than if the food in the meal was purchased separately.)
Me: “Hello, sir, what can I get you?”
Customer: *giving me a somewhat disdainful look* “I want a [Burger] with fries and a large [Soda].”
Me: “Would you like that as part of a meal or are you buying them separately?”
Customer: *visibly annoyed, and still glaring at me* “No, I’m having them as a snack.”
(I laugh politely, thinking that he was trying to be funny.)
Me: *smiling on the outside, dying on the inside* “Is that a large meal or are you buying them separately?”
Customer: “I already told you, I’m having them as a snack.”
(I look at my supervisor like a deer in headlights. She takes over.)
Supervisor: “Sir, are you having your order as a meal or are you buying each item separately?”
Customer: *growing quite rude and ill-tempered now* “I’ve already told him that I want them as a snack. Doesn’t he understand simple instructions?”
(My supervisor is quite protective of her trainees. I know that the look in her eyes means she wants blood, but she remains calm and collected.)
Supervisor: *trying to remain polite* “We don’t sell meals as “snacks,” sir. Are you buying it for yourself or—”
Customer: *almost shouting* “Of course I am. Now get me my large [Burger] with fries and a [Soda]!”
Supervisor: *faces me and tells me to get his food prepared* “I’m ringing that up as a meal deal, sir. That’ll be £5.45, please.”
(Customer begrudgingly slams a £10 note on the counter and gives me a scathing glare as I hand him his food in a bag and he leaves the store in a huff. My supervisor realises something.)
Earmark That Sound Advice
DEPARTMENT STORE | RIGHT | JANUARY 24, 2013
(I’m doing a sales pitch to my customers, a husband and wife, and they’re really getting interested. We’re going round all the products. There is good banter going on, jokes etc. However, out of nowhere, an old lady barges between them and grabs my ear.)
Old Lady: “I have been asking you where the toilets are!”
Me: “Please let go of my ear!”
Old Lady: “It’s rude to disrespect your elders! Where are the toilets?!”
Husband: *knocks the old lady’s hand away from my ear*
Old Lady: *to the man* “You assaulted me!”
Husband: “You have no case, and I didn’t hear you asking this young lady about the loos. My wife and I have been talking to her for at least ten minutes.”
Old Lady: “Of course I have a case! You hit me! She saw it!” *points to me*
Husband: “She has a better case against you for assault.”
Old Lady: “No she does not!”
(The husband calmly pulls out a business card and hands it to me.)
Husband: *to me* “I’ll gladly take her to court for you for free.”
(Reading the card I see his name, followed by ‘Head of Legal Advice for [company]’.)
Me: “Thank you!” *to the old lady* “The loos are down that way on the left; follow the signs.”
(I am rubbing ear as the old lady walks off, sulking. I turn to the couple.)
Me: “I’m so sorry about that.”
Husband: “No need. Anyway, keep the card, just in case!”
Hard Of Hearing For Hard Customers
RESTAURANT | RIGHT | OCTOBER 22, 2014
(I’m deaf in one ear and hard of hearing in the other. Since I’ve been like this all my life, I’ve learned to adjust as well as I could. I have a habit of tilting my head and leaning in with my good ear. Most people don’t say anything or don’t even notice. I was serving this customer when this happened.)
Me: “Welcome to [Store]. How can I help you?”
Customer: “I want a…” *mumbles while looking down*
Me: “I’m so sorry. I didn’t catch that.”
Customer: *looks annoyed and mumbles it again*
Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I’m hard of hearing, and I just can’t catch what you’re saying. Would you speak up just a bit, again I’m sorry.”
(She finally looks up and rolls her eyes.)
Customer: “What, they actually hire you people now?”
Me: “I’m sorry?”
Customer: “If you can’t hear like a normal person then you shouldn’t be working!”
Me: *starting to get upset* “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I like working, and since I can work, I’d rather do that than go on disability.”
Customer: “Well since you can work just soooo well, then I guess you heard my order. And I’m not repeating it.”
Me: “I didn’t hear it ma’am, and I don’t really want to just take a guess at your order.”
Customer: *very loudly* “Then get me another server, you freak!”
(Luckily my manager overheard and escorted her out, telling her not to come back. Thankfully, most people are actually really nice about it, and will just speak up.)
Changing His Tune
RADIO STATION | RIGHT | JULY 25, 2013
(I work at a radio station. I answer a call.)
Caller: “Yeah, what’s this song you’re playing right now?”
Me: “Why, it’s [name and title of song].”
Caller: “Well, whatever it is, it’s bull-s***! I can’t believe you’d allow such a s*** song on the air. YOU SUCK AT YOUR JOB!”
Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way, sir.”
Caller: “Well, there’s only one way you can fix this. Play Kick Start My Heart by Motley Crue.”
Me: “I can’t do that, sir. We don’t have that song.”
Caller: “WHY THE F*** NOT?”
Me: “We’re not a classic rock station, sir. As such, our selection of classic rock is rather limited.”
Caller: “Look, I’m the voice of the people! And the people have decided that you suck, and the music you play sucks. So PLAY MY SONG!”
Me: “As I said, sir, I can’t do that, because we don’t have it. The best I can do is pass that suggestion along to my boss, and if he agrees with you, we’ll get it. Perhaps you’d like to talk to my boss directly about this? I can transfer your call—”
Caller: “SO YOU WANT ME TO DO YOUR JOB FOR YOU? JUST PLAY MY F****** SONG!”
(He proceeds to call me and my station a variety of names until I get tired of him and hang up. This goes on twice a day for about a month. Every time one of the popular female artists of today comes on, he’ll call me up, cuss me out, and demand to hear ‘Kick Start My Heart.’ One day, the only Motley Crue song in our library, ‘Girls, Girls, Girls,’ comes up in the playlist. I play it, and he calls.)
Caller: “So you finally decided to f****** listing to me and get Motley Crue. NOW PLAY KICK START MY HEART!”
Me: “I can’t do that, sir. We don’t have it.”
Caller: “I know you have Kick Start My Heart!”
Me: “What makes you think that?”
Caller: “Because you’re playing Girls, Girls, Girls! It’s on the same album! So if you have Girls, Girls, Girls, you’ve got to have Kick Start My Heart!”
Me: “Sir, I took your concerns to my boss. I told him that the people were demanding that we add Kick Start My Heart to our library. After a lengthy exchange, he decided the only Motley Crue song I could have is the radio single of Girls, Girls, Girls.”
(There is a lengthy silence from the other end of the line. Finally, he speaks, but instead of cussing me out, he has turned into an incredibly polite person.)
Caller: “Oh, I didn’t know that. In all that time, you were actually listening to me, and taking my concerns. Hey, you did your best and thanks for that. By the way, love your station and love your show. Keep up the good work!
Delay Reaction
AT THE CHECKOUT, EDITORS' CHOICE, GROCERY STORE, KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI, USA | WORKING | FEBRUARY 14, 2014
(My mom and I are in line at the checkout. The manager walks over and tells the cashier it is time for her to go home after she is done helping us. We chose this register because my mom really likes this particular cashier.)
Me: “So, you get to go home early tonight? That must be nice.”
Cashier: *quietly, so the manager, now standing by door, does not hear* “It would be if it only happened once in a while. He’s cut me at least fifteen minutes early every shift for over two weeks.”
Mom: “We can be really difficult so you’ll have to stay and help us.” *louder, so manager can hear* “[My Name], is that the price you remember seeing for [item]? I was sure it was less than that.”
Me: *catching on* “It must have been. I think we need a price check.”
Mom: *after price check confirms item is right price* “Oh, and could you please slow down on the bagging? I don’t want anything smashed or broken.”
(My mom continues to delay, insisting the cashier stop several times to read the total to her or double check something. Then, she pretends she cannot find her debit card and takes her time entering her PIN.)
Mom: “Has it been long enough yet?”
Cashier: “I think so. Thank you.”
Me: “Okay, mama. I think we should go now.”
(We walk toward the door, and my mom turns back toward the cashier.)
Stupidity Makes A Good Case
CALL CENTER, MONEY, STUPID, TECHNOLOGY | RIGHT | JULY 12, 2010
Customer: “I received a cell phone case in the mail today. You sent the wrong item.”
Me: “It looks like you ordered a neon green silicone case for 50 cents and shipping was $2.00. What did you receive?”
Disrespect Can Be Infectious
RETAIL | RIGHT | OCTOBER 8, 2012
(A customer approaches my register and drops her items on the counter in two separate piles without acknowledging me or diverting attention from her cellphone. There is a line forming as there is only one cash register. Note: I work part-time here; my other job is at a pharmacy.)
Me: “Did you find everything all right today?”
Customer: *to her phone* “So, I went to the doctor and he prescribed me zithromyacin…”
Me: “Okay, were you going with all of these today or is this pile here to go back?”
Customer: *to her phone* “Well, I didn’t want to spend money on another prescription, so I just took some Diflucan I had at home.”
Me: “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to know what you plan to purchase before I can ring you up.”
Customer: *to her phone* “That should be okay, right? I mean, I don’t even know what Diflucan is, but I figured it was stupid to spend more money on pills.”
Me: “So, should I go ahead and ring these?
Customer: *to her phone* “I mean, what is Diflucan anyway?”
Me: *a bit loudly* “DIFLUCAN is most frequently prescribed for YEAST INFECTIONS. Were you ready to check out or would you like to step into a more private area to finish your call?”
Customer: “Okay, these are the items what I wanted to purchase!” *pays and quickly leaves, embarrassed*
Taste Of Your Own Fast Acting Medicine
FAST FOOD | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 6, 2015
Customer: “I want a number-one-medium-with-a-coke-and-a-large-frosty-with-a-kids-meal-chicken-nuggets-and-apple-slices-and-orange-juice—”
(Fortunately I am able to type all of that in and keep up with her despite that and speak it back to her just as fast as she had said it.)
Me: Okay…so you want a number-one-medium-with-a-coke-and-a-large-frosty-with-a-kids-meal-chicken-nuggets-and-apple-slices-and-orange-juice–also-a-number-seven-with-a-diet-coke-large-and-an-apple-salad?”
Knocked Down A Few Decks
MILITARY | WORKING | JANUARY 4, 2015
(I am walking into work one day wearing a T-shirt with Optimus Prime brandishing a gun on the front. The following happens as I cross the quarterdeck to get onto my ship.)
Officer Of The Deck: “Hey, shipmate. C’mere.”
Me: “Sir?”
Officer Of The Deck: “Shipmate, to you really think that shirt is appropriate?”
Me: “I don’t follow, sir.”
Officer Of The Deck: *condescending* “It’s got a weapon on it. Do you think that’s appropriate for a sailor to wear in public?”
Me: “Sir, it’s Optimus Prime. He wrote the book on ‘fighting for what is right.'”
Officer Of The Deck: “And you’re going to tell me that you think violence is the answer?”
Me: *looks around at the Aircraft Carrier we’re standing on* “Sir, if I didn’t believe in fighting tooth, nail, and F-18 jet fighter in what I hold dear, I would have joined the Coast Guard.”
(He scowled and let me on board. One of the security guards nearby overheard me and had to walk away so the Officer of the Deck didn’t see him laughing.)
Script Stupidity
HEALTH & BODY, PHARMACY, STUPID, USA | RIGHT | MAY 28, 2009
Customer: *holds up two bottles* “What’s the difference between these two medicines?”
Me: “The one on the left is a capsule; the one on the right is a tablet.”
Customer: “I mean, which one would be better?”
Me: “They’re exactly the same medicine, just in different forms. Most people buy whichever one is easier for them to swallow.”
Customer: “That’s just stupid! How can you swallow a bottle?”
Judge Me Not By The Color Of My Liquor
BAR | RIGHT | DECEMBER 16, 2011
Customer: “Could I have a vodka and lemonade, and a whisky and cola?
Me: “Yes, sir, coming right up!”
(I make the drinks and place them in front of him.)
Me: “Anything else?”
Customer: “No, thanks, but which one is which?”
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Needs To Switch To… Oh, Wait
BANK | WORKING | APRIL 14, 2013
(I’ve recently reorganized the cabinets in my floor’s coffee area and added big, obvious labels to help people find the kind they want.)
Coworker: “Hey, we’re out of decaf coffee. You really need to keep up with the ordering better.”
Me: “Really? That’s weird; we just got a big order in on Monday. Did you check in the cabinet labeled ‘DECAF COFFEE’?”
Coworker: “There aren’t any labels on those cabinets! You just don’t want to order my coffee!”
Me: “Shall we walk over there together?”
Coworker: “Yes! And you will see that there are no labels and no decaf coffee!”
(We walk to the other side of the floor. I place my finger on the large white label with the large black letters stating “DECAF COFFEE”, then open that cabinet to reveal five boxes of decaf coffee.)
Coworker: “Oh, THERE it is! You really shouldn’t hide things from us like that!”
This Is How Musicals Are Born
HARDWARE STORE | RIGHT | MARCH 10, 2015
(My dad and I go to a hardware store needing eight bags for a gardening project.)
One Size Fits All
AWESOME, CLOTHING STORE | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 20, 2013
(A man comes to the counter and places two dresses on the counter: one sized XS and one sized XXL.)
Me: “Are these dresses both for the same woman?”
Customer: “Yes.”
Me: “Oh, okay. These are both very different sizes, so they are not likely to fit the same person. What size does she usually take?”
Customer: “Um… I’m not sure.”
Manager: “Well, does she look more like me or more like her?”
(Note: my manager is quite small, and I am quite big.)
Customer: “Um… uh… I’m sure these will be fine.”
Me: “Sir, because the price is marked down on these dresses they will be Final Sale, so you will not be able to return them if they are not the right size. Are you sure we can’t help you?”
(The customer looks around furtively, then leans in close so that only my manager and I can hear what he is saying.)
Customer: “These dresses are for me, actually.”
(My manager looks at me, and I at her, and then she turns to the customer and speaks a very matter of fact voice.)
Manager: “Why don’t you go try them on, then?”
Customer: “Really? Would that be okay with you?”
Manager: “Of course! Let me get you started with a fitting room.”
(I spent the next hour bringing this man dresses to try on and he had a lovely time! He introduced himself to me and thanked us profusely for being so understanding and helpful. He left with four dresses, all of which fit him to a T, and he came back regularly after that.)
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