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Category: Health & Body

Stupid customers in stories are bad enough. However, dealing with a customer’s health issues may be hazardous to your own health! Please consult your doctor before continuing.

Going On A Nutty Trip

| Australia | Health & Body, Language & Words

(I work at a large supermarket franchise and our store is quite big so we often get people asking where things are.)

Old Woman: “Hi, can you help me? I’m looking for this nut mix stuff; I think it has almonds and linseed in it.”

Me: “Do you know what it might be called or what brand it might be?”

Old Woman: “Well, I think it was an acronym. I think it was called LSD.”

Me: “…Uh, do you mean LSA?”

Old Woman: “Yes, that’s it!” *after a few moments* “LSD’s a drug, isn’t it?”

Not Exactly A Tray Of Sunshine

| WA, USA | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink, Health & Body

(I work in an assisted living facility. We take care of elderly people who are no longer able to do everything for themselves, but are not completely incapable of overseeing their own care. I’ve only been a caregiver at the facility for about two months, and this particular resident moved into the facility about a month ago. Because of the way the facility is set up and the work they like to start new people on, I have never seen her before and have only entered this resident’s room because the caregiver assigned to her is busy, and the receptionist noticed she missed breakfast and wanted someone to check in on her. It has also snowed heavily a few days ago, something that rarely happens in our area and that road maintenance is completely unequipped to handle, so road conditions are poor and have been so for a few days.)

Me: “[Resident]? Good morning. You didn’t come down for breakfast. Can I bring you a tray?”

Resident: “No. You can take this one out.”

(She gives me a tray from her dinner the night before.)

Resident: “No one ever takes my tray in the evening. I don’t know if you’re all lazy or what, but something needs to change. No one ever checks in on me.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. I’ll see about leaving a note to help remind everyone to come in and check on you.”

Resident: “Well, what I want to know is why they need to be reminded at all? It can’t be that you’re all bad employees. And if it is then you should have been fired a long time ago.”

Me: “I don’t know why someone would need a reminder. It could be that they haven’t added you to the list of residents to check in on yet. I don’t know how often it’s updated.”

Resident: “I’ve been here a month. When are they going to add me?”

Me: “They might have done so already. That was just a guess. Are you sure you don’t want breakfast?”

Resident: “Yes. But can you see about getting me [medication]? I only have one dose left. My daughter usually picks up my refills from a [Drug Store] in [Town], but her car can’t drive in the snow. There isn’t anyone else in the area who can get it for me.”

Me: “I’ll ask a nurse about it and see what we can do.”

Resident: “Good. I’m suffocating here.”

(At this point the receptionist phones the resident’s room. I haven’t contacted them fast enough to let them know I’m checking in on the resident, so they ask if the resident needs anything for breakfast.)

Resident: “No! I don’t want a tray. You people charge [amount] for each one you bring up and I’m already paying [amount] a month to live here and you haven’t even added me to your list.”

(She paused to listen to the receptionist again.)

Resident: “I don’t know. Just make sure this doesn’t happen again.” *hangs up phone*

Me: “W-well, is there anything else you’d like me to do for you while I’m here?”

Resident: “Yes. Would you get me some coffee and a glass of water. There’s a machine in the kitchen.”

(I fetched her coffee, at which time I couldn’t help but notice that given the state of her kitchen, she either lied about her daughter’s inability to drive in the snow or was completely capable of getting to the kitchen and handling all of the equipment in it. Pouring drinks is a minor request, and she already seemed to be in a bad mood over insufficient care, so I still got her coffee, but we’re supposed to leave tasks that a resident can do for themselves to the resident. If we always did everything for them, they could lose certain capabilities from disuse. After I left her room, I tracked down the list of residents and level of care they required. Her name was on the list, as was the explanation for her room tray problem. As per her request, no one was allowed in her room roughly 15 minutes after we typically deliver dinner trays. Those 15 minutes are also some of the busiest of the shift. The only thing preventing her from getting her tray removed was her unworkable demands.)

Caught In The Heat Of The Moment

| UK | Family & Kids, Food & Drink, Health & Body

(I am a waitress, serving food to a table. The plates are hot, and I’m holding them in cloths to serve them. I go to put down a plate in front of a boy about ten years old, who reaches out to grab the plate.)

Me: “Oh, no, be careful. It’s hot!”

(The kid snatches the plate out of my hands and almost drops it.)

Boy: “It’s hot!”

Me: “Are you okay? Are your hands all right?”

Boy: “Yeah, I think.”

Mother: “Are you okay?! Are you hurt?”

Me: *seeing she’s acting very panicked* “Do you want me to fetch a damp cloth or something for him?”

Mother: “Yes, please.”

(I go and fetch a cold towel for him and come back to the table.)

Mother: “I can’t believe you just did that. That was very bad of you. How could you give a plate that hot to a child? He’s had to go to the bathroom with his dad!”

Me: *a bit shocked, as she had clearly seen him snatch it out my hands* “I’m very sorry. I did warn him that it was hot. It is quite loud so he might not have heard me.”

Mother: “But how could you let him hold it? These plates are really hot. That was an awful thing for you to do. He’s only young and you’ve really injured him. I can’t believe you.”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry. I was trying to put it on the table and he grabbed it out of my hands.”

(At this point my boss turns up to serve the rest of the food.)

Boss: “Is everything all right here?”

Mother: “No, actually. She’s just handed my son a red hot plate knowing it would hurt him. He’s in a lot of pain now and it’s all her fault!”

(My boss gives me a look and takes me to one side, out of earshot of the table.)

Me: “I’m really sorry; he just grabbed it. I don’t think he heard me say how hot it was.”

Boss: “Don’t worry, I don’t think you’d hurt a kid on purpose! I’m guessing his dad’s taken him to run his hands under cold water. The plates aren’t that hot but I’ll deal with it if they’re upset.”

(She came into the kitchen later saying that apparently they had not put cold water on his hands, but his mother was demanding we bring burn cream out for him (the boy himself insisted it didn’t hurt anymore). The worst part? He ordered a hot pudding and snatched that plate off me, too! Luckily the plate itself was cold!)