Morphine Makes You Mellow And Mallow
HOSPITAL, KENTUCKY, SILLY, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 26, 2018
(I broke my leg and have just been loaded into the ambulance. The paramedic gives me some morphine. I get a little silly once the drugs kick in.)
Me: *to paramedic* “Oh, you smell so goooooood.”
(Once I get to the hospital, they temporarily sedate me to set my leg. I wake up as they are wrapping my leg in gauze. My leg is puffy and white.)
Time To Liquor Your Wounds
FRIENDS, HOME, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 25, 2018
(I just got into a pretty bad car crash. I refuse medical assistance because, well, that’s expensive. I call my boyfriend to help me, and he brings his buddy who always brags about being an ex-Marine medic. In my shock, I keep insisting we go to the home of a friend whose cats I am taking care of, saying that we can’t let them starve. We get there. I’m bleeding everywhere, my face is swelling, and my hand is turning blue for some reason.)
Boyfriend: “I’ll feed the cats. You just sit down. Wait. You need ice. I’ll get ice!”
Buddy: “You need to clean out these cuts. Does your friend have rubbing alcohol?”
Me: “I don’t know. She’s got three bathrooms in this place. Look around.”
(They run around like headless chickens for a minute.)
Buddy: “I don’t see any.”
Me: “There is a store up the road.”
(He disappears and comes back five minutes later, holding a vodka bottle.)
Buddy: “They didn’t have rubbing alcohol. I got this!”
Me: “Where did you go?”
Buddy: “The gas station.”
Me: “And you didn’t notice the drug store on the other corner?! Give me that.” *I take a big swig straight from the bottle* “It will do, but I’m never calling you for rescue again.”
Boyfriend: “What about me?”
Me: “Are the cats fed?”
Boyfriend: “Yes.”
Me: “I’ll call you; just don’t bring him with.”
(And yes, I did clean out my wounds with vodka, because the buddy didn’t want to go out again, and my boyfriend was afraid I would get up the in-shock energy to kill said buddy if we were left alone together. Good times.)
Walk In-Sane
BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, STUPID, VANCOUVER | HEALTHY | MARCH 24, 2018
(I’m a patient sitting in the waiting room of a walk-in clinic. Although I try not to, I overhear the following conversation, as the patient is being extremely loud.)
Patient: “I want to see [Doctor].”
Receptionist: “I’ll see if I can get her for you, but if it’s urgent, we try to send patients in to doctors as they become available, and [Doctor] will be off the clock in twenty minutes. You’ll probably be waiting longer than that.”
Patient: “My friend told me [Doctor] is the best one, and I came on a Thursday because he said she works on Thursdays!”
Receptionist: “I’m sorry you were inconvenienced, ma’am. In future, if it’s urgent, please come in right away. All our doctors are fully qualified to help you.”
Patient: “Well, what about next Thursday? Will she be in, then?”
Receptionist: “Again, if you come late in the day, she may not be able to help you.”
Patient: “I can’t come any earlier! I’m at work until five, and I’m sure as hell not going to take time off if you can’t guarantee that I’ll even get to see the right doctor! This is absolutely ridiculous! I’m coming in next Thursday at 5:30, and I expect to see [Doctor]!”
Receptionist: “Ma’am, it doesn’t work like that.”
Patient: “Well, why the hell not?!”
Receptionist: “Because asking to see a specific doctor at a specific time is called an appointment, and this is a walk-in clinic.”
Patient: *glares at the receptionist, crumples up her sign-in sheet, and stalks out the door*
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 13
HOSPITAL, ILLINOIS, PATIENTS, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 23, 2018
(I work in a hospital in a mid-sized city as a CNA. We like to refer to our dietary service as “Room Service” for some reason. A patient hits the call light.)
Patient: “I need to talk to you about my diet. Room service won’t let me order hardly anything on the menu.”
(I call down to room service. Apparently, the patient has eggs listed on her allergies in her chart, so naturally, they won’t allow her to order anything with eggs in it. This is kind of a problem at breakfast time. I head back into the room.)
Me: “It seems that our dietary department has eggs listed as one your allergies.”
Patient: *deep sigh* “No, I’m not allergic to eggs. I’m allergic to egg yolks.”
Me: *with a look of confusion on my face* “Um, I’ve never heard of that. What happens when you eat egg yolks?”
Patient: “They make me gag, but I can eat scrambled eggs with no problem. As long as they’re mixed in, they don’t bother me.”
Me: “I don’t think that’s an allergy; I think you just don’t like runny yolks.”
(It took me a full four hours of bugging the nurse and the doctor to change this woman’s diet, because this woman in her sixties didn’t know the difference between allergies and foods she doesn’t like.)
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 11
RESTAURANT | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 22, 2017
(I work in a southwestern-themed restaurant, and many of our recipes include similar spices, just in different amounts. Onion is one of the most prominent ingredients in our recipes, and we sometimes get a request for ‘no onion’ in certain items. We can make some things, but it’d be pretty much just lettuce, cheese, and any number of fresh chopped vegetables that aren’t onion or mixed with anything that has onion in it. As such, I get this man in line.)
Customer: “I’d like a burrito.”
Me: “Okay, would you like that with or without guacamole today?”
Customer: “With.”
(The guacamole has onion in it.)
Me: “What kind of meat on your burrito?”
Customer: “Chicken.”
(The chicken has onion in the seasoning.)
Me: “Any rice or beans?”
Customer: “Sure, I’ll take [rice with onion in it], and [beans with onion in them].”
Me: “Any grilled vegetables?”
Customer: “Ooh, no, thank you. I’m allergic to onion.”
Me: “Sir… if you’re allergic to onions then I highly suggest you don’t eat this burrito. There is a load of onion in it already.”
Customer: “Oh, no, I’m only allergic to onion that I can see.”
(Eight years of culinary experience, and this is the first time I’ve heard that excuse. I made him his burrito – leaving off anything with visible onion – and he went on his way. No complaints yet.)
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 10
RESTAURANT | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 27, 2016
(I am a cashier at a restaurant. We are a small business and the owners are still working on the perfect way to run the business. A couple walks in and orders at the counter as usual. After finding a table, the woman returns to the counter.)
Customer: “Excuse me; do you have any larger chairs? My husband is too large to fit in these.”
(I know we don’t have any, but I go in the back to ask the owner for advice anyway. I return to the counter with no real solution.)
Me: *”No, ma’am. We don’t have any larger chairs; I’m sorry for your husband’s discomfort.”
Customer: “Okay, thanks anyway.”
(She goes back to her table, visibly upset. The husband returns to fill his drink, and I notice he is wearing an adult bib. They eat all their food with seemingly no complaints. They talk for a few minutes, and then the wife returns to the counter.)
Customer: “Excuse me, I’m having an allergic reaction. Is the manager around?”
Me: “Yes, ma’am. Let me go grab the owner for you.”
Owner: “What’s wrong, ma’am ?”
Customer: “My throat is itchy. I’m allergic to something in your food. Could you name the ingredients for me?”
Owner: *names every ingredient in the food she and her husband has eaten*
Customer: “I’m not allergic to any of that.”
Owner: “I’m sorry, ma’am, then you didn’t have an allergic reaction here.”
Customer: *becoming more angry by the second* “I said my throat is itchy and I’m having an allergic reaction! Don’t you care at all about your customers?”
Owner: “Would you like me to call an ambulance?”
Customer: “No! I’m fine! We were just leaving!”
(She pulled her husband out the door. He seemed indifferent to her “allergic reaction.” He even waved to us on the way out.)
Allergic To Common Sense, Part 9
SANDWICH SHOP | RIGHT | JUNE 24, 2016
(I work in a busy sandwich shop in a retail centre. It’s relatively quiet when a man and his two sons enter. They are regulars, but are usually rude. The father ignores us and plays with his phone while the kids order.)
Me: “And what salad would you like?”
Son #1 : *reels off salads* “…and onions. And [burger sauce].”
Me: *wraps his sandwich for him and hands it over before moving on*
(A few minutes after the father has paid, he storms back to the counter with Son #1 ’s sandwich.)
Father: “There are onions in here. He cannot eat onions. He is allergic!”
Me: *worried about the allergy* “I’m so sorry! Do you need me to call emergency services?!
Father: “What? No. He’s just allergic!”
Me: *I’m confused, but relieved more than anything* “Okay, I’m very sorry! I’ll make you a new one straight away.”
(I make the new sandwich as before, and ask the boy over to tell me his salad items again.)
Father: *storms up to counter* “He can have the sauce!”
Me: “The [burger sauce] contains onions so I’m not comf—”
Father: “Just give him the sauce!”
Me: *shrugs and puts the sauce on, adding extra when asked before wrapping the sandwich up*
Father: *snatches sandwich before I can bag it* “No onion! Was that so hard to understand?” *storms off again*
(They spent the rest of their meal glaring at me while I worked and left their mess all over the table, including the original sandwich they rejected. When I went to clean up, I find all of the onion had been removed from the sandwich and was nowhere to be seen.)
Pregnant With A New Perspective
CANADA, HOSPITAL, NURSES, OTTAWA, PATIENTS | HEALTHY | MARCH 21, 2018
(I have been sent to the radiology department within the ER for an urgent chest x-ray. When the technician asks me if it is possible I am pregnant, I have a mental glitch — I have a language-based learning disability — and my brain takes a good 30 seconds to interpret the question. Since I hesitated, the technician turfs me back to Family Medicine for a pregnancy test. I am upset at having to spend longer in the hospital while sick, as well as the effort to walk across the hospital and back. The nurse administering the test is also upset for having her work interrupted for the test.)
Me: “I tried telling him I would have to have the gestation of an elephant to still be pregnant two years after last having sex.”
Nurse: *annoyed, slamming objects as the test is performed* “Yes, you couldn’t even be on ‘I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant’ [reality TV show] by this point.”
Me: “And he’s going to throw me in the back of the line, so I’ll wait all over again. I’m on bed rest. I just want to be — and should be — at home, but we have to go through this! So, I took 30 seconds to answer the question, but I answered it! I don’t know why he just didn’t believe my disability.”
Nurse: *still annoyed* “Belief in your honesty has nothing to do with it. He wouldn’t be allowed to interpret; the policy is that anything other than a ‘quick no’ has to be investigated.”
(I pause for a moment as this sinks in. My tone becomes lower and calmer, and my speech slows as this new perspective hits me.)
Me: “I hadn’t thought of that. That makes sense. While he wouldn’t have any reason to believe I’m lying, he also has no ability to know if I am telling the truth, since my disability isn’t on the test request. He probably gets women who hesitate because they are in denial. This policy may annoy a lot, but probably saves a few zygotes from harm.”
(The nurse stops what she is doing for a moment in thought.)
Nurse: *obviously calmer* “Yeah, the policy probably does save those precious few.”
(We’re silent for the rest of the test, but the tension in the air around us has dissipated. The test is negative, and she signs a slip for me to take back to the x-ray technician. I take it and smile at her.)
Me: “Thank you. And I’m sorry about the interruption. I hope you can get back into your rhythm easily.”
Nurse: “Thanks, and I hope they manage to rush you through, and get you back to bed. Feel better!”
(It is amazing the difference perspective can make! And, while the technician had another patient when I arrived, he took me next, and even defended me when people complained I had jumped the line. [“She waited in line before, so she doesn’t have to wait now!”] I got upset for nothing — except the exhausting trek through the hospital!)
Looking After Dogs Is As Easy As Pie
CALIFORNIA, STUPID, USA, VET | HEALTHY | MARCH 19, 2018
(When canine patients need a little more fiber added to their diet, the doctor will often advise the owner to add a spoonful of canned pumpkin to the food. One day we get a phone call from an owner to whom we recommended pumpkin.)
Owner: “I ran out of pumpkin pie. Can I use apple pie, instead?”
750,000 Reasons To Quit
BAD BEHAVIOR, CALIFORNIA, EDITORS' CHOICE, USA, VET | HEALTHY | MARCH 18, 2018
(Federal law requires that before administering any vaccine or prescribing any medication, there must be a current DCPR — doctor-client-patient-relationship. Basically, the doctor must have examined the pet within one year of the date. I have been called up front to help a new coworker with a client who doesn’t seem to understand this.)
Client: “I don’t need an exam. He’s healthy. Just give him the shot.”
Me: “But federal law says we have to.”
Client: “But he had an exam in January.”
Me: “Yes, January of last year, so we could have given him the shot this January, but it is now April.”
Client: “Well, what can I do? He needs the shot.”
Me: “We can examine him.”
Client: “But I don’t want to do that. Could my friend Benjamin Franklin convince you?”
Me: “Are you asking me to accept a bribe?”
Client: “Maybe.”
Me: “You realize that the exam is only 50 bucks, right?”
Client: “Yeah, but I don’t want to have him examined.”
Me: “So, you want me to break federal law, make the doctor lose her license, and all my coworkers and me find new jobs in new career fields. Yeah, that’s going to be more than $100.”
Client: “So, how much?”
Me: “Seven hundred and fifty thousand.”
Client: “What?!”
Me: “Seven hundred and fifty thousand to break federal law; I think that’s cheap. Or 50 bucks for an exam.”
Client: “What times do you have on Tuesday?”
(After the client is scheduled and leaves…)
Coworker: “What would you have done if he said yes to the $750,000?”
Me: “Insisted he bring cash, and check all the bills for counterfeiting, then administer the vaccine. Tell the doctor, and split the money evenly among the whole staff.”
Coworker: “What?!”
Me: “Official company policy says that if someone wants to give you 15,000 times more than the price of the service, in cash, you are not to expected to turn them down. But accepting anything less, not getting cash, not checking it for fakes, or not splitting the bribe are all offenses that will get you fired. We’ve had that option for 30 years now; so far, nobody has ever taken us up on it. Can’t imagine why.”
The Breast Way To Revive Someone
CANADA, HEALTH & BODY, SCHOOL, SILLY | HEALTHY | MARCH 16, 2018
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.
(I am taking a first aid training course as part of a job requirement. Every student in the class is male, and the only female is the instructor.)
Instructor: “Now we’re going to go over Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, or CPR. Let’s go grab our test dummies.”
(The test dummies used for CPR practice are realistic replicas of a woman’s head and torso. A lot of the students feel uncomfortable with this practice, as it involves undressing the dummy and pushing on its chest.)
Instructor: “Come on! You’re all big boys, now. Put some muscle into it! This is literally the only time it’s legal for you to grab an unconscious woman’s boobs!”
Should Have “Left” The Slicing To The Experts
CALIFORNIA, HOSPITAL, NURSES, PATIENTS, SACRAMENTO, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 15, 2018
(I am using a V-slicer to slice potatoes into French fries to soak overnight before going to bed. I slip while using it and slice open the side of my left hand, all the way to the bone. I manage to wrap it and drive myself to an emergency room — the emergency clinics are all closed for the night — and get stitches. Since I am not an emergency, I have to wait five hours before I am fully treated. After my hand is cleaned, stitched, and bandaged, a nurse brings me some discharge papers to sign. She notices me signing with my left hand.)
Nurse: “Oh, you’re left-handed? I’ve heard that left-handed people are really smart. Is that true?”
Me: “I’m sitting in an emergency room at three in the morning because I sliced my hand open making French fries. What do you think?”
The Insurance Is The Assurance
FLORIDA, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 14, 2018
(My spouse is on an organ transplant list. One of the many requirements is that you must always show up to your appointments unless you call with a really good reason. Failure to do so can get you thrown off the list. The transplant coordinator calls me and tells my that my spouse never showed up for an appointment with one of the doctors. I inform her that he most certainly did. He even had to leave a very important meeting at his office in order to do so. But the doctor’s receptionist and nurse told the coordinator that he didn’t show up for the appointment. This goes back and forth between the coordinator, the nurse, the receptionist, and me for over a week. The coordinator knows my husband and doesn’t believe for a second that he just blew the appointment off, but both the nurse and receptionist are adamant.)
Me: “Hey, [Coordinator], the next time you talk to [Receptionist] or [Nurse], tell them I am notifying my insurance company, because I have paperwork that says my insurance company paid out for an appointment, so in that case, the doctor’s office is committing insurance fraud.”
(The coordinator called me back the next day laughing because “all of a sudden” they found the paperwork showing my husband HAD shown up for the appointment. We are, however, changing doctors with the help of the coordinator.)
Totally Crackers About Their Self-Importance
EMERGENCY SERVICES, HOSPITAL, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, JERK, MONTANA, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 13, 2018
(I work in an emergency room. It’s late morning when a well-dressed woman of late middle-age registers. She states that she was just in a serious accident and must be seen immediately. Although we know that we hear about serious in-town accidents right away, sometimes a serious accident does occur in the country and the victims may be brought in by private vehicle. They usually have on outdoor-appropriate clothing rather than clean high heels, but we still hustle the patient back quickly. Once in a bed, she relates that the “serious accident” occurred hours ago, in town, at a speed she calls “much less than 20 miles per hour.” She has driven here in the car involved. She gets an exam and a neck x-ray. Then, she complains
Patient: “This is taking too long. I am diabetic and haven’t eaten breakfast. You have to feed me.”
(It’s about 11:30 am.)
Me: “What have you been doing since the accident?”
Patient: “I went to see a lawyer first, then came straight to the hospital.”
Me: *sighs* “We’ll get you some crackers and peanut butter.”
Patient: “No, I’m in the mood for an egg salad sandwich.”
Me: *finally had enough* “This is not a restaurant, and we don’t have egg salad sandwiches lying around to give out!”
It’s A Man’s World Of Pain
AUSTRALIA, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MELBOURNE, NON-DIALOGUE, PHARMACY, VICTORIA | HEALTHY | MARCH 12, 2018
I have an eight-and-a-bit-month-old child, and I’ve been having some pain during sex, so I book in to see my OB-GYN.
The appointment is really straightforward and I’m told to go get a cream. I also have a birth control rod inserted whilst I’m there. I wander over to the pharmacy and hand over my script. I’m not asked for my Medicare card, but I’m asked if I have concession.
I reply no, with no more thought into the answer. I wait and collect my script and note that I’ve been charged a concession price. Not thinking too much into it, and thinking that I must have one linked to my Medicare card, I pay the $12.80 instead of $50 to $80 for my items and head back across the road.
I get the rod implanted and continue about my day, a bit perplexed how I got charged concession. It’s not until later that night when I’m reading the script again that I realise they’ve put it under the wrong name. I’m a Mrs. [My Name], and they put it under a Mr. [Same Name].
I burst out laughing that they have given a man vaginal cream and contraception, at an OB-GYN.
Trying To Seize Some Sympathy
DELAWARE, EMERGENCY SERVICES, JERK, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, PETS & ANIMALS, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 11, 2018
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.
(I am in high school, and I come home to one of my two dogs having had a severe stroke. I hold her the entire way to the vet and stay at the office while they put her down. My remaining dog is my favorite dog of all time. One day, around five am, I go downstairs to find him having a seizure. I can’t drive, my parents are at work an hour away, and no vet offices are open around me. I am panicking so badly that I decide to call 911.)
Operator: “You have reached a 911 operator. What is your emergency?”
Me: *through panic and tears* “My dog is having a seizure and I don’t know what to do!”
Operator: “You will have to dial a vet. This is for emergencies.”
Me: “There are no vets open around me! Please tell me what I should do. Is there anywhere I can call? Anyone who can help me?”
Operator: “Look. You need to calm down and just call a vet. This is an emergency service.”
(I ended up hanging up and repeatedly calling my parents until one of them answered. Eventually, an adult arrived and comforted my dog for the three hours until a vet opened. My dog died that day. People still joke about me calling 911 over a dog having a seizure.)
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 15
BAD BEHAVIOR, BIZARRE, EMERGENCY SERVICES, GEORGIA, REVOLTING, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 10, 2018
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.
(I am a brand new EMT; I’ve had my license less than six months. I am working for a non-emergency transport service that specializes in psych patients. I go to a hospital to pick up a patient going to a mental health facility for a court-mandated 72-hour hold. The nurse advises me that the patient tried to overdose on some pills after a family crisis, but has been calm and cooperative since being in the ER. My partner and I introduce ourselves to the patient, get her on the stretcher, and load her into the ambulance. I begin to assess her.)
Me: “Do you have any pain anywhere?”
Patient: “Yeah, my stomach is hurting from my cycle. Can you give me anything for that?”
Me: “No, ma’am. I’m sorry, but I cannot give medications.” *pain medication is not within my scope of practice*
(I finish my assessment and start on my patient care report. All the while, the patient continues to complain about her pain. I advise her that I will tell the receiving facility about it as soon as we get there so the doctor can give her something, but in the meantime I get a heat pack out of the cabinet and give it to her with a towel. At about the halfway point of a two-hour trip, the patient announces that she has to use the restroom.)
Patient: “I have real bad diarrhea and I need to go now.”
Me: “Well, I don’t have a bedpan, and we cannot stop, so I need you to hold it.”
Patient: “I can’t hold it.”
Me: *to partner* “Hey, we are in [Town], right? I need you to divert to [Hospital] so I can take her into the ER. She needs to use the bathroom.”
Partner: “Can’t she hold it?”
Me: “She said no, and I would rather not have to deal with the smell.”
Partner: “Okay.”
(We get another five minutes down the road and the patient manages to slip out of all restraints and stands up.)
Me: “Ma’am, I need you to sit on the stretcher and put your seatbelts back on. If we were to get in a wreck or if my partner made a sharp turn you could be hurt.”
Patient: “I can’t hold it anymore. I’m going to s*** my pants.” *begins to undo her pants*
Me: *to partner* “Hey, pull over. She is off of the stretcher and she is about to s*** on the floor.”
Partner: “What?! Put a sheet down first.”
(As I put a sheet down I plead with the patient to reconsider, to no avail. The patient proceeds to force herself to defecate, urinate, and menstruate on the sheet. She does not have diarrhea and definitely could have held it. After the patient finishes, she uses her clothes to wipe herself and sits back down, half-naked, on my stretcher. I cover her with a sheet, re-secure her belts, turn on the exhaust fan, and try not to breath any more than absolutely necessary.)
Me: *to partner* “Hey, I need you to get there fast; I can’t take this.”
(For the next thirty minutes, the patient sits silently on the stretcher. When she realizes her previous attempt for pain meds was unsuccessful, she decides to up the ante.)
Patient: “My stomach is still hurting so bad. Can you please give something now?”
Me: “No. Like I said before, I can’t give pain medications.”
(The patient goes on a rant for several minutes before becoming silent again. Just when I think we might get to the destination without further excitement, the patient puts her fingers in her mouth and causes herself to vomit all over the floor.)
Me: “Seriously? What makes you think this is helping your cause?”
Patient: “Why don’t you just give me something for pain?”
Me: “I am an EMT basic. I can assess you, take vitals, and do CPR. Only a paramedic can give pain medications, and they still would not give you any, because menstrual cramps don’t qualify for narcotics use.”
(The patient continues to complain, but we have no further trouble until we get to the mental health facility. The patient tries to beat up the orderly after they tell her she will have to be seen by the doctor before she can get anything for pain. As we are decontaminating the truck, my partner looks at me.)
Partner: “I have been in EMS for 12 years, and I have to say, that was a first.”
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 14
AUSTRALIA, CRIMINAL & ILLEGAL, HARASSMENT, NEW SOUTH WALES, RETAIL, RUDE & RISQUE, SYDNEY | RIGHT | OCTOBER 20, 2017
(I am working in a two-storey men’s clothing store. It is almost closing time, and I am the only one working on the bottom floor, when an elderly man shuffles in and approaches me.)
Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”
Customer: “Uh…” *stares at me for a while*
Me: “Yes? Is there anything you were looking for?”
Customer: *continues staring*
Me: *slightly creeped out, but keeps smiling* “Okay, well, let me know if you need anything!”
Customer: *suddenly points to a pair of display pants* “Get me those in XL.”
(I tell the customer to stay while I run upstairs to fetch the requested pants. However, when I come back down, the man’s pants are down and his family jewels are on full display.)
Customer: *still staring creepily at me* “You’re pretty.”
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 13
CLOTHING STORE, GOLDEN YEARS, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, REVOLTING, USA, UTAH | RIGHT | OCTOBER 13, 2017
(It’s a quiet Sunday morning, and I’m the only cashier. An older man who looks at least 70 hobbles up to my register and places a shirt on the counter.)
Customer: “I’d like to get this shirt, and I was told you could also take the sensor tag off these pants I’m wearing so I can buy them.”
Me: “Uh, the pants you have on right now? They’re from here?”
Customer: “Yes. Trying them on tuckered me out, and the girl in the fitting room said you could remove the sensor tag up here at the register.”
(Our sensor-removers are secured to the counter, and I know for a fact that there’s no way this man could manage holding his leg up to get the sensor tag taken off. I stammer for a moment before remembering an unattached sensor tag remover we used for our express lane on Black Friday months ago.)
Me: “Right! Let me just see if someone can get us the sensor-remover we need.”
(I ask over the radio and receive some confusion over why I would need it, but eventually my manager says she’ll go to the lock box in the back and get it.)
Me: “All right, [Manager] is just grabbing that sensor-remover, and then you’ll be good to go!”
Customer: “But I was told that you could remove the sensor tag.”
Me: “Yeah, we can; it’s just that our normal removers are attached to the counter. [Manager] is grabbing the unattached one right now.”
Customer: “Well, I’ve already stood here longer than I can handle. If I have to go take the pants off, I just won’t buy them.”
Me: “No, it’s all right. The sensor-remover is on its way up right now; don’t worry.”
Customer: “This is ridiculous. I was told the sensor could be removed. I won’t buy the pants if I have to go take them off.”
(I’m taken aback by how angry the customer is getting, but thankfully my confused manager arrives at that moment with the unattached remover. I go around the counter and have to crouch down to try and remove the sensor at the bottom of the customer’s pants leg. It’s a tricky process, and I notice the man is balancing on one foot, so I tell him he can put his foot down if it would make him more comfortable.)
Customer: “Actually, I have an open sore on that foot.”
Me: *freezes* “Uh, where is that exactly, so I don’t bump it?”
Customer: “Oh, it’s just on the bottom of my foot.”
(With that gross image in mind, I was finally able to get the sensor removed from the pants. I then had to pull all the tags and stickers off of the pants, getting much closer and more touchy-feely with the customer than I would have ever wanted to. He left without so much as a “thank you,” and I promptly took a much needed break to shake off the heebie-jeebies the whole interaction gave me.)
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 12
BOOKS & READING, LIBRARY, RUDE & RISQUE, USA | RIGHT | AUGUST 22, 2017
(I am a reference librarian at a public library. We get a number of reference questions by phone. In particular, there is one elderly woman who as far as we know has never been in the library, but calls nearly every day to ask a question that is usually related to something in pop culture — for example, the name of an actor on a TV show she has watched. She’s a very sweet lady, so we always do our best to help her. One Saturday afternoon, my supervisor and I are together at the desk in the reference room, which is full of people but still fairly quiet. Anyone in the room could easily hear us on the phone. Our friend calls and my supervisor answers the phone.)
Supervisor: “Oh, hello, Mrs. Smith. How are you? How can we help you today?”
(She pauses to listen and her eyes get huge. She looks at me, looks around the room, and then suddenly GETS DOWN UNDER THE DESK and speaks very quietly into the phone, while I stare in astonishment. A moment later, she re-appears and hangs up the phone.)
Me: *confused*
Supervisor: *whispers* “She’s reading a book and wanted to know what a strap-on is.”
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