The college choir I’m in is rehearsing a song. In this part of the song, one section sings its part and keeps repeating it while the other sections join in one by one. The altos and tenors are already singing, and we reach the point where the sopranos join in.

Director: “Add the sopranos!”

The sopranos join in, but the tenors drop out. The director notices and stops conducting.

Director: “When I say, ‘Add the sopranos,’ that means the other parts keep singing. It does not mean to drop out and have only them sing. That is not what ‘add’ means.”

One of my friends in the soprano section chimes in.

Soprano: “Welcome to kindergarten.”

Director: “When you’re making a cake, and it says to add eggs to the flour, you do not take the flour out of the bowl and put the eggs in alone. Let’s do it again, and make sure you’re actually singing!”

We get through that iteration and reach the bass section’s entrance. This time, the instructions are different.

Director: “Just the basses this time. A bowl of eggs.”

This story reminded me of a story about my dad. A few weeks after my dad was born, my grandma worried that her baby didn’t seem to be looking at her right. So, doing what any worried mother would do in the days before Web MD, she took him to the doctor. The first eye doctor they saw told my grandma that nothing was wrong. She still thought that my dad was looking at her funny, so she took him to another eye doctor. This eye doctor also didn’t find anything, but my grandma was not convinced. She KNEW that something was wrong. 

My grandma was done with these doctors and decided that she would stop just going to random child eye doctors; she would find the best eye doctor in the area. If even the best eye doctor couldn’t find something wrong, maybe my dad was okay and not looking at her funny. After doing some research, she was able to figure out who the best eye doctor in the area was and called to make an appointment. However, the earliest they could see my dad would be in six months. The eye doctor didn’t even normally see infants anyway — only adults. 

My grandma didn’t know what to do. Six months was too long. So, she called her mom and asked for advice.

Grandma’s Mom: “If you are certain that something is wrong with your baby, you go to that doctor’s office and sit in the waiting room and wait there until they see your baby!”

My grandma, even though she didn’t want to be rude, was worried enough to follow this advice. 

The next day, she went into the doctor’s office and explained the situation. They told her the doctor couldn’t see her, so she sat down in the waiting room and waited. Eventually, at the end of the day, the doctor felt sorry for her and decided to at the very least humor her and examine my dad. As it turns out, it was a very good thing he did. My dad had congenital glaucoma, and the doctor realized that he needed to be operated on right away if he was to have any chance of having vision at all. They were able to operate on him in time to save one eye, but he is blind in the other, not that you can tell. If Grandma had waited those six months for the appointment, he would have been fully blind.

Sometimes, mothers do know best.

Related:
An Eye-Catching Lesson

I am starting my shift as a night auditor at my hotel in downtown Chicago. About half an hour into my shift, I get a call from a panicked-sounding woman.

Caller: “Hi! I know this isn’t your usual request, but my son and his friend have finished attending an event downtown, and their ride has let them down last minute! Home is [Town too far away to walk], and I’m not in a position where I can come and get them. They just missed the last train out!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am. I think I understand. But please try to talk slower and take a breath so I can follow along.”

Caller: “Yes! Sorry! I’ve checked every hotel website I can think of, but every room is booked due to [Event], even yours!”

Me: “Yes, that is the case, I’m afraid.”

Caller: “Please, please, please, can they sit in your lobby? Just until the first buses run? I can’t stand the thought of them wandering the streets in the dark and cold all night!”

Morally, I can’t let a child be sat outside in the cold in an unfamiliar city; it’s dangerous, and if anything happened, I’d never forgive myself. So, against all of my hotel rules:

Me: “Send them over, ma’am. They’re welcome to sit in the lobby in the warm.”

Caller: “Oh, my God! Thank you! Thank you so much! They’re just around the corner! There are two of them, and his name is [Son]. Thank you! You’re a lifesaver!”

I let the teens sit in the lobby, and they were the nicest and politest guests I had had all day! They even insisted on helping me clean and set up the morning coffee. We had great conversations until 5:00 am when the first buses ran. 

I’m now friends with [Son] on Facebook, and he just started college this year!

When I was fifteen, my first job was at a local fast food chain. The whole place was kind of shady, so I have plenty of stories about crazy people coming in. One of my first unfortunate experiences with customer service was when a lady came by and declared that she was gluten-free and couldn’t have our cones.

Me: “Okay! Would you like a cup, sundae, or blizzard instead?”

Customer: “No, I want a cone.”

I was confused and looked around for any of my coworkers to help. Unfortunately for me, they were busy.

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “I want a cone without the cone.”

Me: “So, in a cup?”

Customer: “No.”

She began to get frustrated with me.

Customer: “I want a cone… without the cone. The ice cream.”

Me: “Right. Would you like that in a cup, then?”

Customer: “No, I don’t want a cup! I want a cone!”

I stared back at her blankly. I was being paid generously under minimum wage, and dealing with aggravated adults was not my specialty as a shy teen.

Me: “Do you want me to make you a cone and take the ice cream off with my bare hands and hand it to you, or would you like me to put it in a cup?”

She then began to scream at me, so I simply made her a cup of ice cream for free so she would leave. She threw the cup toward me and stomped away.

Customer: “You’re discriminating against gluten-free people! I will not be coming back!”

Me: “Okay!”

Certainly, an interesting experience. 

Related:
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 12
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 11
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 10
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 9
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 8

I work in a bank. Some of our systems are down. We can still process deposits and withdrawals, but we cannot provide balances or any other services. I’ve been leading all discussions with customers with this information all day; however, they are still asking for things I cannot do and getting mad when I can’t do it.

A customer walks in.

Me: “Hi, how are you today?”

Customer: “Good, and you?”

Me: “I’m all right. I did want to let you know that our servers are down, and while we can still process a deposit or withdrawal, we cannot provide balances, open accounts, or any other service right now. Unfortunately, there is no estimated time that we’ll have these services back.”

Customer: “I just have a deposit. No balance needed.”

Me: “Great! I’ll process that for you.”

I process it and hand over his receipt.

Customer: “Oh, wait, I do need my balance.”

He immediately smacks himself on the forehead.

Customer: “And you literally just told me that balances are unavailable! I’m sorry.”

Me: “Don’t worry about it. At least you realized what you said and owned it.”

Customer: “Long day of people not listening, huh?”

Me: “You have no idea.”