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    When Just Being A Doctor Isn’t Cool Enough

    | Erie, PA, USA | Food & Drink, Health & Body

    (I work in a hospital kitchen with an adjoining cafeteria. A doctor pokes his head in the door and calls attention to himself. I stop what I’m doing to help him.)

    Doctor: “Excuse me, the coolers in the cafeteria are all turned off. Could you please turn them on?”

    Me: “Well, there’s nothing in them right now. We’re still making the food. It would be a waste of electricity to turn on an empty cooler.”

    Doctor: “But I’m a doctor.”

    Me: “I…I know that.”

    Doctor: “If you know, then why won’t you turn them on?”

    Me: “Sir, I can’t turn them on. There’s no need.”

    Doctor: *pauses* “But I’m a doctor.”

    Me: “Sir–”

    Doctor: “I’m a doctor!”

    Me: “Okay, I can turn them on.”

    (I walk into the cafeteria with him and flip the switches on the empty coolers.)

    Doctor: “Thank you.”

    (He walks away empty-handed, apparently satisfied.)

    Me: “Okay then.”

    (I turn the coolers off again and go back to the kitchen.)

    Scareware Makes Us Aware

    | Perth, Australia | Health & Body, Technology, Top

    Me: “How can I help you today?”

    Patient: “Um. I think I have an STI.”

    Me: “Okay. What symptoms do you have that makes you think that?”

    Patient: “Well, I don’t really know. My computer told me to be here.”

    Me: “Oh, did you do a self-analysis online?”

    Patient: “No. I’m not sure. I’m here, I need to be here!”

    Me: “Exactly what did your computer tell you?”

    Patient: “Don’t judge me! Stop it! I need to be here!”

    Me: “I can assure you that I am not judging you. Can you explain to me exactly what happened before you came here?”

    Patient: “Well, I was looking at some porn last night online and this morning I turned my computer on and it told me I have a virus!”

    Me: “Uh.”

    Patient: “Stop judging me!”

    No Longer An Eye For An Eye

    | Washington DC, USA |

    (I have just found a spare eyeglass case for one of our doctors.)

    Doctor: “Thanks, what do I owe you?”

    Me: “Eh, don’t worry about it. We usually charge, but I’ve got you covered my friend.”

    Doctor: “Oh! I guess next time you need a prostate exam I’ll try and hook you up.”

    Me: “Uh, thanks?”

    Retail Therapy

    | Newcastle, NSW, Australia |

    (I work at a small shop in a hospital.)

    Me: “Hello!”

    Customer: “Is this the only shop here?”

    Me: “Yes, it is.”

    Customer: “And that’s the only cafe?” *points towards the cafe*

    Me: “Yep!”

    Customer: “Why aren’t there more?”

    Me: “Well, we only really need one shop and one cafe for this hospital.”

    Customer: “That’s just stupid! I don’t need beds, I need more
    shops! I’m going to complain!”

    Totally Plastered

    | Toronto, ON, Canada |

    Me: “Alright, your cast is on nice and secure. It should heal within four to six weeks.”

    Patient: “Really? Only four to six minutes?”

    Me: “No, four to six weeks.”

    Patient: “Okay, four to six minutes.”

    Me: “Sir, it’s impossible for it to heal within four to six minutes. It takes about four to six weeks.”

    Patient: “Oh, all right.”

    (I turn around to fill out his form. When I turn back around, he has taken off his cast.)

    Me: “Sir, why did you take off your cast?!”

    Patient: “Well, you said it heals within four to six minutes, but you said it was too short, so I waited seven minutes…but it still hurts.”

    Me: “Sir, your arm is still broken. Four to six weeks is around a month and a half.”

    Patient: “Well, why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?! A month and a half is five weeks! Why did you say four to six minutes?”

    Me: “I never said…” *I pause and compose myself* “…okay, nevermind. Let’s put on a new cast.”

    Patient: “Oooh! Can I have a pink one?”

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