When I was in college, I worked part-time in the building that served as the central hub for the college campus. No classes were held there, but the building had conference rooms, an auditorium, restaurants, and a computer laboratory, where I worked. The computer lab also sold software and printouts. Plus we were expected to help students on occasion, so we had basic office supplies on site: staplers, pens, etc. 

Like any other retail place, we had regulars. Most were fine, but one guy was just weird. He bought a copy of MS Office once and then just walked around the place a bunch of times, never using the computers, studying, or anything. He would frequently stop by and ask to borrow a pen, and then he would go back to walking around the place some more. I don’t think I ever saw him actually write anything down with the pens. 

One day, he asked to borrow a pen from me, and I gave it to him. He gave it back a few hours later, and I was disgusted to find that he had chewed it up. 

Me: “No, I’m not taking this pen back. This is now your pen. Keep hold of it now, because I’m not letting you borrow any more pens from here.”

[Weirdo] took the pen and left without saying anything. I didn’t see him for the rest of the day. 

On my next shift, which was late afternoon to close, [Weirdo] was there again, because he always was. 

Weirdo: “Can I borrow a pen?”

Me: “No. Last time you were here, I gave you a pen to keep. You can use that pen, and it should be fine because it was two days ago.”

[Weirdo] left immediately without saying a word. No arguing, no hassle. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. 

Later in that same shift, I was getting a bit hungry, so I called a member of the setup crew (other student employees who set up the auditoriums and conference rooms for events) to cover for me a bit because I wanted to get some dinner at one of the restaurants in the building.

I came back twenty minutes later to find the place swarming with police.

Me: “What in the h*** happened here?”

Setup Crew Guy: “[Weirdo] came in with a large axe and just started prowling around the place! I called the police, and they arrested him.”

I never saw [Weirdo] again after that. To this day, I wonder if [Weirdo] would have tried to murder me with an axe because I wouldn’t let him chew on a pen. If that’s the case, I’m glad he wasn’t smart enough to check the restaurants in the building.

CONTENT WARNING: Death, Cancer
 

I’m not sure if this is because I work in a smaller rural hospital, but it was something I was glad to be part of; I’m not sure we could have gotten away with this in a larger hospital.

I’m an administrative assistant at a hospital. I have no formal medical training outside of CPR and recovery positions, but I assist the nurses and doctors enough to have seen my fair share of medical emergencies.

Mr. Smith (name changed, obviously) is one of our patients who has recently taken a turn for the worse. He has terminal cancer and isn’t expected to last the night. He is in his late nineties and his family has been preparing for this day, so they’re all in the area and coming by to spend some precious moments with him.

I’m standing at the reception doing some of my work when I see a woman who I recognize to be one of Mr. Smith’s relatives standing at the entrance. She seems hesitant to come in, so I approach and ask if everything is okay.

Relative: “Well, I am trying to see how I can go about bringing Copper into the hospital.”

Me: “Copper? Like the metal?”

Relative: “What? Oh, gosh, no! This is Copper!”

She stands aside, and I am shocked to find that I didn’t notice the tiny old dog standing behind her. He looks like a cross between a Jack Russel terrier and… something… but I can certainly tell how he got his name. His coat is a brilliant copper color!

Relative: “Copper is Mr. Smith’s absolute best friend. We wanted to see if we could bring him in to see him one last time, but we understand as hospitals aren’t designed to be pet-friendly.”

Me: “Stay here for just one moment.”

As luck would have it, one of the hospital administrators is at reception talking to a few managers. I politely interrupt and explain the situation, pointing over by the entrance as I do. They all look over, and I observe a solemn resolve come across all their faces.

Hospital Administrator: “We still do occasional visits from support dogs for Pediatrics, right?”

Manager: “We do.”

Hospital Administrator: “I don’t care what it takes, but get something filed for Copper.”

Manager: “On it.”

Hospital Administrator: *Pointing at me* “You, with me.”

We both head over to the entrance, and the hospital administrator says hello.

Hospital Administrator: “Hi, [Relative]. I’m so sorry for what you and your family are going through. Please follow me, and we’ll get you and Copper in to see your grandfather.”

We exit the hospital, walk around to the side, and enter a side entrance only accessible by hospital staff. We are mere feet away from Mr. Smith’s room.

Hospital Administrator: “[My Name], please take them to Mr. Smith’s room. I’ll go see the ward manager and explain the situation.”

I do as I’m told, and as soon as Copper enters the room, both he and Mr. Smith come to life. The dog jumps up on the bed, a licking frenzy ensues, and Mr. Smith starts crying. A moment ago, he was too weak to move, but now he’s mustered the energy to embrace his dog.

Mr. Smith: “My Copper! My little Copper!”

Since my shift ended at 6:00 pm, I was told what happened throughout the night by the nurses.

That little copper dog stayed embraced by Mr. Smith until the very end. Relatives came and went and paid their respects, but Copper sat by his master and didn’t let go. It was as if he knew what was coming and was preparing himself, too.

When the moment came, Copper licked Mr. Smith’s forehead one last time and got up for the first time in hours. There were tears and the usual protocols were followed, and the granddaughter I had spoken with the day before took Copper home. He had gone back to being quiet and still, like when I had first noticed him.

A month or so later, our hospital received a huge bouquet of flowers, sent from the family, thanking us for making their relative’s passing as peaceful as possible. The card was signed by the family members — including a little paw print from Copper.

The card explained that Copper was living with the granddaughter now and took weekend walks to Mr. Smith’s grave to say hello. Everyone who read the card teared up. Working at a hospital, you see death pretty regularly, but this one got to us.

May we all get a Copper in our lives!

Due to assorted events I won’t bore you with, I inherited a stray puppy. I knew he wasn’t lost and didn’t have an owner looking for him. I was the only one of my immediate friends willing to put in the effort to see he was cared for. He was a rambunctious pup, getting into all the standard sort of trouble you would expect of a puppy, but he got along great with my cats and seemed like he would make a great pet for someone.

Unfortunately, I personally have never been a dog person; dogs are too much of a commitment to care for, and I just like cats more as pets.

My original plan was to take him to the local pound and let them find him a home, but when I called them on the phone, they sounded less than confident that they could rehome him. I couldn’t understand why; he was the perfect adoptable age and seemed like he would be snatched up immediately. Still, I didn’t want to risk them putting him down, so I decided to make my own good-faith effort to find him a home first. I put out a few ads online and almost immediately had a couple with a young girl show up at my house.

The girl simply adored the puppy, chasing him around and playing with him as I spoke to the parents. Unfortunately, the parents I was not as certain about. It seems the girl had declared that she wanted a puppy a day before, so they were here to pick one up without any more thought. 

Me: “I don’t know his medical history; you will need to take him to a vet to get looked at and his shots.”

Woman: “How much would that cost?”

Me: “I’m not really sure. A few hundred maybe?”

Man: “You said he was free!”

Me: “He is, I’m not charging anything for him myself. But I did say that his medical record was unknown; he still needs all the stuff any new puppy requires.”

Man: “Why didn’t you do all that already?”

Me: “I’ve had him for less than a week and was hoping to adopt him out quickly. To be frank, I’ve had neither the time nor the desire to spend that much on a puppy I don’t intend to keep. If I had trouble finding him a home, I might have done it, but there are already a few who seem interested in him, so it didn’t seem necessary.”

Woman: “If we keep him inside, he probably doesn’t need shots anyway…”

There was a little more back and forth here, but the net result was the distinct impression that they were saying they would take him to a vet to appease me but had no intention of doing so. They also seemed taken aback that he wasn’t fully house-trained yet, and I was a little worried that they didn’t know what to do about training him.

The mom seemed to have reservations about it, but the dad plowed right thought them, and neither seemed to have given any thought to the actual effort of owning a dog.

I’m not an expert at rehoming animals, but my instincts told me this wouldn’t work out. I probably should have said as much to the parents immediately. However, their daughter clearly adored the pup; I’ve always had a hard time saying no to cute kids, and I didn’t want to make her cry.

Me: *To little girl* “He really seems to like you.”

Girl: “Yeah! Can we take him home?”

Me: “Well, I’d like to give him to you, but dogs need a lot of stuff to take care of them, like a collar and leash, bowls and food, maybe a bed, and a few toys. He wouldn’t be happy without them.”

The girl had already told me they didn’t have a yard since they lived in “a big house with lots of houses in it” so, at the very least, I knew they would need a collar and leash to walk him properly.

Man: “Don’t you have all that stuff?”

Me: “No, I haven’t had him for long. I have a small bag of dog food I could send with you, but other than that I’ve made do with a fenced-in yard and reusing the cats’ stuff for him since I was hoping to rehome him quickly.”

Girl: “You mean we can’t have him?”

Me: “Well, I’ll make you a deal. I can hold him for a few more days while your parents buy him everything he needs and make an appointment with a vet to make sure he is healthy. Then, if you bring me a photo of everything you got for him and proof of the vet visit to show you’re ready for him, you could take him then.”

Girl: “Okay!”

Man: “Why can’t we take him now?”

Woman: *At the same time* “Why a vet visit?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t give him to you until I know he has everything and I have proof that a vet visit is planned.”

Woman: “That costs too much!”

Man: “You said he was free! We can just take him now like you said!”

Me: “I said he was free to a good home. I’m sorry, but that means a home willing to pay to care for him.”

Man: “You promised our girl a dog. You didn’t say any of this other junk. We want the dog!”

Me: “The ‘other junk’ is supposed to be presumed when you get a pet. I can’t give him to you unless I know he will be cared for.”

Girl: “It’s okay, Dad. We can get him tomorrow.”

Man: “No, we’re not waiting or wasting money on a vet.”

Me: “Sir, your daughter is watching. Is this the behavior you want to model to her?”

Man: “Give me that d*** dog!”

Me: *Bending down to the daughter* “You are great with the puppy, and I think he would love you. But I’m really, really, sorry; I can’t let your parents have him when they say they won’t take care of him.”

Girl: “We can’t have him?”

Me: “I’m really sorry, but no. He needs parents that will love him.”

Woman: “How could you do that to her?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry ,but it’s the two of you who are doing it by not being willing to care for her pet.”

Man: “F*** that. We’ll just take him now.”

Me: “I have your names, your phone number, and your car’s license plate on video — the same video that would record you leaving with a dog I didn’t give you. If you try to take him, the cops will be at your door in an hour.”

Girl: *Now crying* “But he likes me!”

Me: “I’m so sorry. Maybe once your parents are ready to care for a pet, you can get one.”

Woman: “What if we came back with a picture of a leash and all?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but at this point, I’m not confident that he would get the medical care he needs. The answer is no.”

There were some more angry words from the parents, and I personally felt terrible watching the cute girl clinging to her mom trying to hold back tears. I really wanted her to have the puppy, but I couldn’t do it if the parents didn’t plan to care for him. 

Eventually, they left.

Two days later, a slightly older married couple showed up. They already had two dogs, knew exactly what it took to care for them, and had even brought their dogs to meet the pup to make sure they all got along first. They took the puppy home instead.

I’m not sure if I should hope the little girl got a pet eventually or pray that no canine was forced into her parents’ home.

This story reminded me of what happened the last time I had to update my phone contract.

I got a notice that my discounted rate would end soon. Since I was heading over to a store to buy an unrelated item, I decided to ask about a new rate while I was at it. Apparently, the very best they could offer me at [ISP] was about one and a half times the rate I had now.

I told my significant other about it, and they told me that they had recently updated their plans with a rate that was about the same as my discounted one, with the same services, at a kiosk in a mall nearby.

“Great! This will be easy,” I thought, and headed over to the mall to find the kiosk.

At the kiosk, it was explained to me that yes, they could offer the rate my SO had told me about — but only for new customers. Since I was an old customer, no good rates for me.

So, I walked over to the kiosk of [Rival ISP] and asked for their best rate if I switched over. I got something a bit higher than the rate for new customers at my current ISP. I signed the papers right there and went home.

A couple of days later, as expected, my still-current ISP called me. They noticed I was switching ISPs and wanted to offer me a good deal if I stayed. Somehow, that deal was the exact same one offered to new customers at the kiosk.

I ended up accepting that deal. It was a pretty good deal, but holy crap do the ISPs make you jump through hoops to get those deals. I’ve been a customer of the same ISP for over twenty years now, and the only thanks I get is having to jump through the same hoops every two years.

I swear, the day one ISP implements discounts for staying over two years, I’m switching over.

Related:
Welcome To The Call Center Centrifuge, Part 3

Customer: “I want you to make my coffee for me.” 

Me: “I’m just taking the orders for today, sir.”

Customer: “No. I want you to make it. I don’t trust those other guys. I was in Afghanistan, and I don’t trust Arabs to make my coffee.”

I try to ignore how wrong all of that was.

Me: “Well, they all make a decent cup of coffee, sir, I assure you.”

Customer: “Fine… but you’d better be making them tomorrow.”

Me: *Just trying to move this along* “I will try, sir.”

Customer: “It’s so bad in America these days. They’re everywhere. I saw online yesterday that they started teaching Arabic numbers in schools! That’s crazy!”