A user submits a ticket because the Wi-Fi signal near their desk appears weak when they look at their laptop. The actual performance is fine, but they want to get ahead of the issue. Their desk is directly below a router and should have full bars.

I grab my laptop and my cell phone and head over to the user’s desk. I imagine it’s not going to be long before other users in the area start complaining, and I’d better be prepared to open a war room if needed.

Me: “So, can you show me what’s going on?”

User: *Pointing* “Look, the Wi-Fi is weak!”

They point to the Wi-Fi icon on their screen. Except it’s not the Wi-Fi icon. They’re not looking at one signal bar as they claimed; the Wi-Fi is working fine.

Me: “Sir, that’s the volume icon. It’s set at 10%.”

They were very quiet after that — ironically.

I wrote this story where my grandma, the drama queen, called an ambulance because she had a tickle in her throat and didn’t want to wait at the hospital, and this story where my grandma, the narcissist, refused to understand that my gluten-intolerant mother might actually know a thing or two about what’s in certain foods.

Grandma has been diagnosed with one of the least threatening forms of congestive heart failure, given medication to take, and told to go on a low-sodium diet. Some people in her situation might say, “I’m ninety-two years old; I’ll eat whatever I [expletive] want to eat.” Not her. She insists that she needs to go on a low-sodium diet. The problem is that she doesn’t really know what “low-sodium” means, and she won’t listen to us because we aren’t doctors.

One day, shortly after Grandma gets back home, we have chicken parmesan for dinner. While she was in the hospital, she asked for a grilled cheese sandwich and a nurse told her the cheese had too much sodium in it, so Grandma has written off all cheese. We make her a piece of plain chicken for dinner while the rest of us have chicken parmesan. My mom has prepared a salad and gives Grandma some.

Mom: “What kind of dressing do you want?”

Grandma: “Ranch.”

Dad gives her the ranch and she proceeds to completely drown her salad in it.

Dad: “Would you like some salad with your dressing?”

Grandma: *Laughs* “Good thing it doesn’t have too much sodium in it.”

Mom: “Yes, it does!”

Grandma: “No, it doesn’t.”

Mom takes the ranch bottle.

Mom: “It has [about 300] mg of sodium in it.”

Grandma: “That’s for the whole bottle!

Mom: “No, that’s per serving.”

Grandma: “No, that’s for the whole bottle!”

Mom: “No, that’s for one serving, and one serving is only two tablespoons. You’d be better off with your usual blue cheese dressing, which only has [about 250] mg of sodium.”

Grandma: “I can’t have cheese!”

Mom: “They probably served American cheese on their sandwiches, but other cheeses are lower in sodium.”

Grandma: “I can’t have cheese! It has too much sodium!”

We let Grandma eat her dressing with a hint of lettuce. She also ate three slices of Texas Toast with extra butter, but we didn’t say anything about that.

It wasn’t until about two weeks later when a home-help nurse came over and told her that ranch dressing was high in sodium that she gave that up.

Related:
We Should Totally Just Drug Grandma! (Not Really), Part 2
We Should Totally Just Drug Grandma! (Not Really)
We Should Totally Just Stab Caesar! (Salad), Part 2
We Should Totally Just Stab Caesar! (Salad)

I was working at a comics and gaming store, and a guy came in looking for a board game recommendation. I showed him a few games, and he chose one. I started to check him out.

Customer: “I’m going to play this game with my friend while we do LSD. Want to join us?”

Oh, yeah, I can think of nothing I would rather do than psychedelics with random men. I’m not sure how he thought he and his friends would play a board game while on LSD in the first place.

I work in a daycare, and I usually have a pretty strong immune system. But I start feeling under the weather after being in contact with multiple kids who have strep throat, and I head to a clinic on my lunch break for a quick strep test. I am asked some typical questions. But these ones make me laugh. 

Nurse: “Have you had any recent surgeries?”

Me: “I had a C-section and a tubal ligation six months ago.”

Nurse: “When was your last period?”

Me: “A little over a month ago.”

Nurse: “Is there any chance you’re pregnant?”

Me: “No, I was sterilized.”

A few minutes later:

Nurse: “So, do you plan on having any more kids?”

Me: “Um, no.”

I don’t know how my previous answers were unclear!

I’m in the car with my stepmum, running errands around the small town my parents live in. At one point, mum slows down the car because of a cyclist in front of us that is swerving quite a bit. I wonder out loud if he’s just a bad cyclist or started drinking early, but mum’s answer shuts me up.

Mum: “Oh, no, I know that man. He has a condition, I can’t remember what it’s called, but he sways when he walks as well. What they used to call “spastic”, but that’s the wrong word of course. He used to live with his mother on [Street]. Nice man.”

Okay, now I feel really guilty for assuming, but mum is not done. She proceeds to tell me the following story from years ago:

Mum used to be a store manager at a local clothing store, and it was not unusual for her to be alone in the store for a shift or part of it (small store, small town, several decades ago). One day she was manning the store alone again, and the man mentioned above walked in. Hesitantly, he explained that he would like to buy a new pair of trousers, but he was worried about trying them on because of his condition.

Mum was worried as well, as she knew the store’s fitting rooms were small and cramped, and though they did have a stool in them, it was more hindering than helpful because of the lack of space. There was also not really anything for people to hold onto to prevent falling over. This was before safety and accessibility regulations became what they are today. So, mum and the customer were worried he would fall over and hurt himself, or that mum would be unable to help him get back up if he did fall.

Mum pondered the best way to help this customer. As she said, he should be able to buy new trousers just like anyone else, she just had to figure out the best way to help him do that. She couldn’t very well physically assist him in trying on the trousers, neither of them would be comfortable with that!

Then, she struck upon a solution! She asked the customer if he would like to pick out a few pairs of trousers he liked and take them home with him to try on in the comfort of his own home. He wouldn’t have to pay for them right away, he could come back later to return the clothes he didn’t want to keep and pay for the ones he did want. That way, he wouldn’t have to struggle around in the store’s fitting rooms.

The customer’s eyes went wide, and he asked her if that would really be okay. Mum assured him it would be, the store’s owners trusted her, and she trusted him. She knew him and his mother, maybe not closely, but enough to know they were reliable.

The customer was ecstatic! He’d been so worried about this shopping expedition but had wanted to try anyway. It was all shaping up to be better than he imagined. Mum helped him pick out some nice pairs of trousers, and a few shirts she thought would look good on him as well. He walked out of the shop with a bag full of clothes to try on, thanking my mum all the while and assuring her he or his mother would come back soon to pay.

Two days later, his mother came into the shop, while mum was again manning the place on her own. The mother asked mum if she had been the one to help her son two days ago. Mum confirmed this was the case, and the mother of her customer thanked her profusely for helping her son so well. She then proceeded to pay for the items the customer had decided to buy and returned the items that didn’t fit, as agreed upon.

I’m sure you’re wondering what mum’s bosses said about all this when she told them. They were very happy with her decision! As they put it, it was her job to sell clothes, and she had done so, while making the customer happy. Happy customers were likely to come back and spend more money at their store, and maybe spread positive word-of-mouth advertisement about their store, which was important for their small store. They commended my mum for a job well done.

The customer mum helped came in many times after that to shop for clothes, and the store continued their special arrangement. If he came in when mum was working, she always made sure to help him herself.

Mum no longer works for that store, which still exists, but has remodeled their fitting rooms to make them larger and more accessible for people with disabilities.

Note to self: Be more like mum!