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A Very Complicated Pre-Op

| Tallahassee, FL, USA | Working | November 15, 2013

(I am a 26-year-old man, waiting for a tonsil operation. I am in the waiting room with my friend, who is 20.)

Friend: “Hey [My Name], I need to go and get some pretzels. Where are they?”

Me: “Second turn, cafeteria.”

(My friend gets up. My name is called. As I go to surgery, the doctor starts asking questions.)

Doctor: “Right, [My Unisex Name], this is the routine checkup?”

Me: “No, an operation on my tonsils.”

Doctor: “And your birth date is [month and day], 1997?”

Me: “No. I was born in 1987.”

Doctor: *looks at me curiously* “Erm, just give me a minute.”

(I see the doctor open the door and goes out. My friend is coming back as he goes out. I assume he goes up and tells her I’m in an operation because I hear them talking. I wait about 10 more minutes, before a security guard comes in.)

Security Guard: “Mr. [My Surname]?”

Me: “Yes.”

Security Guard: “I have reason to believe you have used someone else’s details. Or that you HAVEN’T stolen someone else’s details, but those details are your girlfriend’s. And to add to that, because of the birth date on the list, we believe she is underage. So you tried to make an underage girl come to hospital for reasons unknown, and I have to arrest you for either identity theft or pedophilia. For your sake, you better hope it’s the first.”

Me: “Just hold it just there! That is MY name! And I have the same birth date; it’s just 87, not 97! And she’s just my friend, and she’s 20!”

(The security guard goes out and brings back a clipboard. He looks at the date on it and I look as well. The person who took my details has written 1987 so badly it looks like 1997. The hospital apologizes to me, and my friend, and I am given a tonsil operation.)

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Really Getting Under Your Skin

| USA | Working | November 15, 2013

(I’m terrified of needles, but, because I work with kids, I need to go in and get a flu shot. My boyfriend knows how much I hate needles, so he comes with me so I can hold his hand. I have it written on my chart that I have a needle phobia called trypanophobia, and a list of things that it causes. Also my first name is more common among men than women. My sex is also on my chart.)

Nurse #1: “Mr. [My Name].”

Me: *standing* “Actually, it’s ‘Miss’.”

(The nurse doesn’t say anything as my boyfriend and I follow her into the room. Inside, the nurse turns to my boyfriend.)

Nurse #1: “So, you’re here for a flu shot, right Mr. [My Name]?”

Boyfriend: “No. My girlfriend [My Name] is getting one today. I’m with her for support.”

Me: “Yes, I told you that it was ‘Miss.’ It even says that I’m female and have trypanophobia, so I need him here.”

Nurse #1: “Try-what? That sounds made up. Wait here and someone will be here with that needle soon.” *starts muttering* “A grown person needing hand-holding for a shot; that’s ridiculous.”

(After a few nerve racking moments, a second nurse comes in with a tray of needles. I feel my heart rate quicken, but it’s not too bad yet.)

Nurse #2: “Alrighty, let’s get this stuck in you quickly and be done with it.”

(The nurse turns to my boyfriend.)

Nurse #2: “I need you to wait outside for a bit. She’ll never get over her fear it you don’t let her.”

Me: “No. I need him here. I’ve been diagnosed with a needle phobia and need to hold his hand or I will pass out.”

Nurse #2: “It can’t be that bad.”

(She practically pushes him out of the room, and turns to give me the shot.)

Nurse #2: “This will only hurt a little.”

(I scream when she gives me the injection, and black out. When I wake up, I hear my boyfriend arguing with the nurse.)

Nurse #2: “She never said she would pass out from the injection. It’s just a flu shot. Babies don’t even cry.”

Boyfriend: “It’s on her chart in big red letters! I can see it from here!”

Nurse #2: “I can’t be bothered to read every single chart they give me, and I thought it was a made up word!”

(Needless to say, I never went back there!)

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Bringing Disorder To The Order

| UK | Working | November 15, 2013

(Four of us have stopped at a roadside cafe for lunch, though only one of us is eating.)

Waiter: “I have hot dog and chips for table 26, and [lists three things] for table 27.”

My Dad: “The hot dog’s for [friend].”

(The waiter stands between the two tables, looking confused.)

Waiter: “Wait, what did you three order?”

My Dad: “Nothing, it’s just him who’s eating.”

Waiter: “Then what am I supposed to do with these dishes?”

Me: “Table 27, like you said.”

(I point at table 27, where a family of three are looking at him expectantly. He looks back and forth, and then offers me a plate of scrambled egg.)

Waiter: “Are you sure you don’t want that?”

My Dad: “No, we’re fine thank you.”

(My dad physically lifts our food off the waiter’s arm. A woman on table 27 follows suit. The waiter continues to look baffled as he walks away.)

My Dad: “This is why the place is losing money.”

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It’s Still Thursday

| Working | November 15, 2013


Thankful For The Shift

| Dover, DE, USA | Related | November 15, 2013

(It’s just before Thanksgiving, and I’m in line for the concession stand when I overhear two employees talking.)

Employee #1: “Hey [Name], what’re your plans Thanksgiving?”

Employee #2: “I’m working that day.”

Employee #1: “Seriously!? Aw man, I’m sorry.”

Employee #2: “Have you MET my family? They’re f****** insane! I asked to be on shift Thanksgiving.”

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