(At our hospital, patients are called into private registration rooms where all demographic information is completed.)

Me: “Come on in and we’ll get your paperwork ready.”

(The patient enters the room and I close the door.)

Me: “So, how are you?”

Patient: “…”

(There are two large comfy chairs in front of the patient, but she’s still standing.)

Me: “Uh… everything okay?”

Patient: “…”

Me: “Well, uh, so… what procedure are you having today?”

Patient: “…”

Me: “Is that your doctor’s order?”

Patient: “…”

(The patient throws the paper at me. It has most of the info I need to register her, so I don’t ask any more questions. After a minute, I have all of her paperwork ready. During this entire time, still hasn’t sat down.)

Me: “Alright, here is your face sheet. If you’ll go down the hall and hand that to radiology they’ll take care of the rest.”

Patient: “Let me ask you a question now. Why didn’t you tell me to have a seat? You are the most rude person I have ever met!”

(She takes her papers and pushes on the door to open it, not realizing she needs to pull.)

Patient: “Ahhhh! Let me out of here, he’s locked me in! Help, help!”

(The patient knocks over my computer, flips the chairs and starts throwing stuff at me; I hide under the desk during her rampage. Hearing the commotion, security comes in and the patient runs out of the room and out of the hospital, never to be seen again. Afterwards…)

Security: “They really should start paying you more.”

Me: “Alright, sir, you’re all set. Anything else I can do for you today?”

Bank Customer: *jokingly* “Yeah, you can deposit a million dollars into my account.”

Me: “Sir, if I had a dollar for every time someone said that, I’d have a million dollars.”

Bank Customer: *hangs up laughing*

Customer: “I need to fill up my truck.”

Me: “Alright, how much gas would you like?”

Customer: “Enough to fill up my truck.”

Me: “Sir, I need to know how much gas you’d like to buy.”

Customer: “Why is this so hard? You tell me how much gas I need, and I give you the money!”

Me: “Each vehicle’s different, sir. How am I supposed to know how much it’ll take to fill up your particular vehicle?”

Customer: “Look at your book!”

Me: “…my book?”

Customer: “Yes, the book! Look up my truck and tell me how much gas to get!”

(My assistant manager comes over to see what all the fuss is about.)

Assistant Manager: “How about you give us $20 for the gas? If you need more, you can come back, and if it’s too much, we’ll refund you.”

Customer: “Aw, forget it. I’ll just circle around the pumps.”

(…which is what he did for several minutes before driving off.)

(A woman walked up to my coworker in a panic.)

Woman: “Have you seen my son? Did someone take my son?!”

Coworker: “I’m not sure. How old is he?”

Woman: *still panicked* “Twenty!”

(A customer comes in with a prescription for a narcotic pain reliever. He says that he was at the hospital with his wife and the hospital stole his pills, which is why he needs to get this prescription filled, even though his last prescription was just filled a few days ago.)

Me: “Okay, sir, I talked to your doctor and he says I can fill your prescription.”

Customer: “Great, can I wait? I have no pills left and I really need it.”

Me: “It’ll be about ten minutes.”

(Ten minutes later.)

Me: “OK sir, your prescription is ready.”

Customer: “Hey, are those pills the same as this?” *holds up pill*

Me: “I thought you didn’t have any pills left, sir.”

Customer: “Well… I bought this off the street, to be honest with you.”

Me: “Oh… good.”