Sodium And So Dum

| FL, USA | Right | April 11, 2014

Customer: “I’d like a half-pound of the [Cheap Brand] low-sodium ham, please!”

Me: “I’m sorry. We don’t have [Cheap Brand] low-sodium ham. We do have the [Premium Brand] low-sodium ham, though.”

Customer: “No, you do have the [Cheap Brand] kind. It’s right there.”

(She points to the Cheap Brand boiled ham, which is the lowest quality meat we sell, and is loaded with salt and fat.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m afraid that ham isn’t low-sodium. Actually, that’s the highest-sodium ham we have.”

Customer: “WHAT?! I’ve been eating that ham for three months because I thought it was healthy! My doctor said my blood pressure was dangerously high!”

Me: “Um… that’s not good. Did one of the employees here tell you that ham was low-sodium?”

Customer: “No! I just assumed it was!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you probably should have asked someone here about that.”

Customer: “SHUT UP! IF I HAVE A HEART ATTACK IT’S YOUR FAULT!”

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Trying To Engender The Gender

| Vancouver, BC, Canada | Right | April 11, 2014

(I’m at an OB/GYN clinic. This clinic has a strict policy against giving out the sex of unborn babies, though many expecting parents try to get around this rule. I am overhearing a prospective father talking to one of the doctors.)

Prospective Father: “Tell me, Doc, is my wife gonna have a boy or a girl?”

Doctor: “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t tell you. It’s still hard to determine at this point.”

Prospective Father: “Aw, come on! Don’t give me that! I know you’re just saying that because of your policy! Just please tell me if I’m gonna be having a son or a daughter!”

Doctor: “You know the rules. Can’t tell you.”

Prospective Father: “D*** it… Okay, then, is it all right if I asked you for your opinion on something?”

Doctor: “Sure, what is it?”

Prospective Father: “Well, since we’re expecting a child and all, it would be a good idea to buy all the necessities ahead of time, right? So, what colour of clothing should I buy for our baby? Blue or pink?”

Doctor: “I think your baby would look adorable in either colour.”

Prospective Father: “Really? Can’t you do better than that? If you HAD to pick a colour, what would you choose?”

Doctor: “Well, if you really can’t decide between those two colours, why not just get one of each? Or mix-and-match, say a blue top and pink bottoms?”

Prospective Father: “What if you had to pick only ONE colour?”

Doctor: “White’s a good colour. It’s a very popular choice for baby clothes, actually.”

Prospective Father: “Ugh, fine. I’ve got another question for you, Doc.”

Doctor: “Sure, go ahead.”

Prospective Father: “When you did the ultrasound, did you notice anything… different?”

Doctor: “What do you mean by ‘different’?”

Prospective Father: “Like, did you notice anything dangling on the baby ‘down there’?”

Doctor: “Oh, I did notice something on your baby down there.”

Prospective Father: “REALLY? WE’RE GONNA HAVE A BOY?”

Doctor: “Now hold your horses, young man. I never said that. Here, let me show you. Take a good look over here on this screen. If you look over here on the right, there’s something hanging down low. In the medical field, we call that an umbilical cord.”

Prospective Father: “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TELL ME IF IT’S A BOY OR A GIRL?!”

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This Round He Lost (In Translation), Part 4

, | USA | Right | April 11, 2014

(People call us to set up appointments at counseling clinics. One of our affiliated clinics’ entire staff speaks English, Arabic, and Chaldean, so we get a lot of Arabic callers seeking appointments who may need an interpreter. I know a little bit of Arabic, but not enough to have an entire phone conversation.)

Me: “Good afternoon. [Call Center]. How many I help you?”

Caller: “Hello, I’d like to set up my father with an appointment to see [Doctor at Arabic facility].”

Me: “Okay. Do you have legal guardianship over your father?”

Caller: “No, he is his own man.”

Me: “Well, since he’s an adult you can’t make the appointment for him, due to HIPAA laws.  Is he there with you?”

Caller: “He’s next to me, but he only speaks Arabic.”

Me: “Not a problem! We can do one of two things: I can get an interpreter on the phone, or he can give me permission over the phone for you to make the appointment on his behalf.”

Caller: “Uh… but he doesn’t speak English…”

Me: “Oh, I understand! You could explain to him in Arabic that I’m going to ask ‘Is it okay if I speak with your son on your behalf?’, and to say “N’am” or “Yes”, if he wants that service. It’s legal, and we do it all the time since some people are more comfortable with us speaking with a family member.”

Caller: “Okay, I’ll do that. Here’s my father.”

(I hear the phone shuffle around, and don’t hear any kind of verbal exchange indicating he’s telling his father what’s happening.)

Me: *in Arabic* “…Hello?”

Caller’s Father: “Huh?”

Me: “… Is it okay if I speak with your son on your behalf?”

Caller’s Father: “HELLO?!”

Caller: “See, this is stupid because he doesn’t understand English.”

Me: “… Did you explain to him what I was going to say?”

Caller: “Ma’am, you misunderstand me! He does not speak English!”

Me: “I understand that, sir. What I’m saying is, you could interpret this portion of the phone call, and explain to him, in Arabic, what I am about to ask him, and what he should say back if he wants you to make the appointment. I’m not asking him to understand English. If you want, I’d be more than happy to dial our interpreter line for you?”

Caller: “NO! He wants ME to do it! He gave me permission before the call!”

Me: “I need to HEAR the granted permission. If you don’t want an interpreter, please explain to him the Arabic translation of what I’m about to ask him in English.”

(The caller grumbles and again hands the phone over without saying anything to his father. His father keeps yelling ‘No English’ and ‘Hello.’ The caller takes the phone again and starts screaming.)

Caller: “HE DOES NOT SPEAK ENGLISH! You are completely incompetent! How am I supposed to interpret if he doesn’t speak English!”

Me: “Here is how interpreting works. You tell him, in ARABIC, what I am going to ask him. So you are explaining that I will say the ENGLISH EQUIVALENT of what you are saying to him IN ARABIC.”

Caller: “Don’t tell me how my language works!”

(Suddenly, I hear a door slam and a confused female voice in the background. The caller is yelling with the female voice in Arabic and English, and the female voice suddenly says, ‘hold on, let me speak with her.’ She takes the phone.)

Caller’s Sister: *calmly* “Hi. I just came home from work, but I believe you were speaking with my brother. I thought I could help. What is it that he’s not understanding?”

(I explain the scenario exactly as I’ve been explaining it to her brother.)

Caller’s Sister: “Oh, okay. So I can just tell my father, in Arabic, what it is that you’re about to ask him in English?”

Me: “Yes.”

(The caller’s sister speaks with her father.)

Caller’s Father: “Oh! N’am! Yes! You… speak with… my… DAUGHTER.”

Caller’s Son: *in background* “What?! That’s bulls***! I know what I’m doing! She’s just an idiot who thinks I can’t speak Arabic!”

Caller’s Sister: “I think you’ll be hearing from me more often than my brother. He’s spoken English his whole life, but I swear, he’s dumber than a box of rocks when people give him instructions. So sorry about that. Well, now, what else do you need to know, love?”

 

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The Color Of Death

| Canton, OH, USA | Right | April 10, 2014

(A customer comes in looking for a new ink cartridge for his printer.)

Customer: “Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me find ink?”

Me: “Sure! Do you know the brand, number, and color you need?”

Customer: “Yeah, it’s [Brand] number eight cyanide!”

Me: *pauses for a few seconds, not sure if he’s joking* “Um, yeah. It’s right over here.” *give him the cyan ink*

Customer: “Great, thanks so much for your help!”

(I don’t have the heart to correct him as he continues on his merry way!)

Not Been Teenage For An Age

| ON, Canada | Right | April 10, 2014

(I’m older than I look, and married. I also have my nose pierced and a couple of tattoos that show if I’m wearing a t-shirt.)

Older Male Customer: “Do you have a boyfriend, young lady?”

Me: “No, I’m—”

Customer: “No wonder with all that nonsense on your arms and that hoop in your face. How do you ever expect to get a boyfriend looking like that?”

Me: “Well, my husband doesn’t seem to mind them.”

Customer: “Married?! You’re only a teenager.”

Me: “Sir, I’m 25…”

Customer: *blushes and turns away, fuming*

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