Patient Has No Patience For Rules

, , , , | | Right | May 22, 2019

(Our doctor’s office has three doctors, one of whom has just moved to this building from another clinic. The clinic used to be a bank, and has doors that open onto the street, but because there are a step and a bus stop directly in front, we have those doors locked and a sign asking patients to use the back door so that there is wheelchair access. One of the patients from the doctor’s old clinic arrives for the first time at the new clinic and approaches the desk. She is rather upset. I am sitting next to my coworker, who is this doctor’s receptionist, and I witness the following:)

Patient: “Why is the front door locked? I tried and tried and I couldn’t get in! Why do you use the back door? That makes no sense!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry you were confused. There is a sign there, and we need to use the back door to accommodate patients who can’t use stairs.”

Patient: *sighs and grumbles* “Winnipeg! Anything goes here!”

(She gives her name, signs in, and sits down. There is a sign asking people to please remove their footwear, as the weather in Winnipeg is terrible and people wearing shoes inside makes everything a mess. This is not uncommon in Winnipeg; many clinics have places to leave your shoes. The patient sits for a few minutes, and then sees the sign.)


(My coworker and I are blown away and just sort of sit there, stunned.)


Receptionist: “Okaaaaayyy…”

(The patient storms out and we cancel her appointment. Several hours later, the phone rings.)

Patient: “I must speak to [Doctor]!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, the doctor is in with patients right now and can’t take phone calls. Can I take a message?”

Patient: “I was in earlier and I left because it was so silly. Why is the front door locked? I must speak to [Doctor]!”

Receptionist: “The doctor doesn’t take phone calls from patients, ma’am. He can’t speak to you.”


Receptionist: *finally having enough* “You had your chance to speak with him when you had your appointment, but you chose to leave. You have been very rude. You can find yourself a new family doctor. Goodbye.”

Check Yourself Before You Self-Checkout, Part 2

, , , , , | | Right | May 22, 2019

(I work at the self-checkout at a grocery store. Customers always seem to have questions and complaints about the obvious. I’m talking to some of my coworkers when my handheld starts telling me one of the lanes has been idle for a while. I turn to look, as a customer is glaring angrily at me while also on her cell phone. I walk over to help.)

Me: “Hey, how are you today?”

Customer: “I’ve slid my credit card four times and nothing happens. I hate these machines. You should get rid of them. They never work and I’m in a big hurry.”

(I look at the PIN-pad and notice it says, “Please continue checking out.” Then, I look at the monitor.)

Me: “Oh, here’s your problem.”

(I push the “Pay Now” button and hear the usual, “Please select your method of payment,” and then push the credit/debit button.)

Me: “There you go. But if you don’t like using the self-checkout, we do have lanes open that may be faster than trying to figure out how to use these. Have a great day.”

Customer: *mumbles under her breath*

Check Yourself Before You Self-Checkout

Always Lives Up To It

, , , , , , | | Right | May 22, 2019

(This happens literally every time this customer comes into the bank:)

Me: “Hi. How are you?”

Customer: “I’m well, and you?”

Me: “Good, thanks! What can I do for you?”

(Then, there’s more small talk as I do his transaction.)

Customer: “I think I saw you the other day on [Street]. I didn’t know you lived there.”

Me: “No, that wasn’t me; I don’t live over there.”

Customer: “Oh, well, where do you live?”

Me: “…”

(I give him a different answer about where I live every single time. It’s never the correct street or even near my house, yet he asks me where I live every time he sees me. No.)


, , , , , | | Right | May 21, 2019

(I work in a call center for a large cable company, mostly in tech support. I am a 23-year-old woman with a very feminine voice. I have just finished explaining to this caller, a middle-aged man, how pay-per-view works and how to order it. Most of our pay-per-views are “adult” themed.)

Caller: “So, um, I just remembered. I can’t read. Can you order one for me?”

Me: *getting nervous, but still friendly* “Of course I can help you with that! Which one did you want to order?”

Caller: “Well… can you just read all of them to me?”

(I hear a distinctive zipping noise in the background.)

Me: *pause* “All of them, sir?”

Caller: “I want to know all of the ones you have.”

(I start reading all of the titles for every channel and every time that we have that day. I get no answer from him, only hearing heavy breathing in the background. Finally…)

Caller: “Can you say that one again, but slower?”

Me: “[Explicit Adult Title].”

Caller: “One more time. Slower. Sound it out.”

Me: *repeats, but slower*

Caller: “One. More. Time.”

Me: *repeats again*

Caller: “Yeeeaaaaah. That’s the one! That’s it!”

Me: “So, this is the one you want to order?”

(His breathing has gotten heavier and heavier during the duration of the call.)

Caller: “Give it to me!” *loud grunt, followed by a sigh*

Me: *absolutely disgusted* “Okay. So, I have that title ordered for you. Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?”

Caller: “What are you doing later?”

Dirty Tricks

, , , , | | Right | May 21, 2019

(I have bought too much potting soil, and I’m waiting in line to return what I didn’t need. The people in front of me are trying to return an obviously used sump pump, claiming they just bought it. I wait in line for about five minutes while the cashier, soon joined by her manager, navigates the return. Finally, they just decide to give them their money back. After this transaction, the manager waves me to a second register and takes care of my return.)

Manager: “Man, some people are just terrible liars. There’s no way they just bought that. The lengths that some people go to to save a few bucks…”

Me: “Well, I promise that I didn’t empty this bag and fill it full of regular dirt.”

Manager: *laughs* “You’re just fine.”

Me: “And I almost got away with it, too!”

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