I’m working my first job as a registered nurse. I’m in charge of a medical/surgical floor from 5 PM until after midnight. While admitting an elderly lady to her room, the woman’s daughter is explaining the call bell.

Patient’s Daughter: “This is how you call for service.”

Me: *As sweetly as I can manage.* “No, ma’am. “Service” is what you call for at Macy’s. Here you’re calling for nursing care.”

The patient’s daughter glares me down for a second. I smile back without blinking.

Patient’s Daughter: *To her mother.* “Fine, whatever, this is how you call for a nurse.”

I finish going through the setup and explanation of everything, and explain when we will give out meals to patients.

Me: “And the dinners are served around five to six, depending on—”

Patient’s Daughter: “—My mother doesn’t like to eat at those times. She’s a night owl, and she will take her dinner at 9 PM.”

Me: “Oh, that’s so lovely that you’re going to personally bring your mother her late dinner for her! I’ll let the kitchen know they don’t need to prepare her a plate. Let me get you the list of ingredients she can’t eat while she’s here…”

The daughter shut up after that.

Housekeeping comes to the desk and tells me:

Housekeeping: “Charge room 402 for as much as you can.”

Me: “What happened?”

Housekeeping: “They stole the dresser and a chair. It’s gone. Missing from the room. Not in the hallway, stairs, or another room. It vanished.”

Me: “The elevator is right in the middle of the lobby, so they had to have carried it down four flights of stairs and out the side door!”

I work in an outdated mid-scale hotel, mostly corporate travelers. We very rarely see trashy guests. Management goes to review camera footage and tells me:

Manager: “Authorize their card for the dresser and the chair.”

Me: “It’s declining for further authorization.”

Manager: “Of course it is.”

Based on the video footage my manager found, a police report was filed.

This happened overnight when we had one worker there. Their room was next to the stairs, and as suspected, they used the stairs right out of the exit door. In the footage upstairs, we really didn’t see anything. Only a head with a blue cap and part of the desk. The camera at the door got it all. I hope the police make good use of it!

A customer looks at the Thanksgiving Sale signs spread liberally around the store, then marches over to my spot at the customer service desk.

Customer: “Why are there Thanksgiving signs up?”

Me: “Because we’re running our annual Thanksgiving sale, ma’am. It runs until the 9th.”

Note: The 9th of October.

Customer: “That’s wrong! Thanksgiving isn’t until November 23rd! You have your signs up WAY too early!”

Me: “You’re thinking of Thanksgiving in the US, ma’am. This is Canada. We have ours in October.”

Customer: “You can’t DO that! It’s… that’s… It’s UNAMERICAN!”

Me: “Exactly, ma’am.”

Related:
Blame Canada! Part 16
Blame Canada! Part 15
Blame Canada! Part 14
Blame Canada! Part 13
Blame Canada! Part 12

I was a teacher in 2013. It’s History class, and we’re talking about different calendar systems around the world:

Me: “And then there’s the Mayan calendar, which was a little famous for a few years recently because people were saying it predicted the end of the world in 2012, but actually—”

Student: “—So what happened? Did the world end?”

I’m not often stumped to answer a student as a teacher, but this made me pause for a moment. Thankfully, another student chimed in:

Other Student: “If the world ended, why would we still be in school?”

Student: “We all died, and this could be Hell?”

Other Student: “…you know what? Fair.”

The lesson continued uninterrupted. I tried not to make it too Hellish for them.

Ever since I was little, my parents have liked to call me the “abominable snowgirl”. I am comfortable in low temperatures; I can go out in -10°C (14°F) in a T-shirt and shorts, take trash to the curb, come back inside, and not even be shivering. 15°C (59°F) is my sweet-spot for long-term relaxation in the comfort of my own home, and I won’t even bother to cover up. 

My parents, on the other hand, are quite comfortable in the heat. 25°C (77°F) is just fine and dandy for them; meanwhile, I will be swimming in my own sweat. In the winter, that was fine by me, because I could open my window and chill the enclosed environment of my bedroom, but the summers were unbearable. As I reached my teenage years, my frustrations boiled over, and I asked my parents to get me air conditioning – just a window-mounted unit for my bedroom, so I could at least have my room be a temperature I enjoy.

Dad: “Not happening. You don’t need air conditioning.”

Me: “Just because YOU don’t need air conditioning doesn’t mean I’M not gonna melt!”

Dad: ” [My Name], summer is SUPPOSED to be hot.”

Me: “Winter is supposed to be cold! Why do you always have the heat running?”

Credit where credit is due: Dad put his money where his mouth is. He did explain to me that pipes tend to burst if the water inside them freezes, and that you should NEVER turn your heat ALL the way off in cold weather. But that winter, he only kept the heat high enough to keep the water running.

I enjoyed myself. Mom and Dad were MISERABLE. They wore sweaters pretty much perpetually, from the first snowfall until things had thawed completely. They started having hot baths instead of showers and would frequently go straight into bed under a lot of blankets before they were even fully dry. We ate (and I was introduced to) a lot of dishes that needed to spend a long time in the oven, and the oven door would be left open after the oven was turned off to let the heat leak out into the kitchen.

The next summer, I had an AC unit in my bedroom window.