We’re Adults And We’re Not This Mature

, , , , , , | Right | October 23, 2020

I am visiting my grandmother and grandfather who live in an extremely nice assisted living community. We are “out to dinner” at the on-site restaurant, which is almost entirely staffed by wonderful high school students. A boy probably no older than fifteen is serving us.

Teenage Server: “And what can I get for you, ma’am?”

Grandmother: “Well, dear, I would like the shrimp with the—”

She suddenly stops speaking and releases the longest, loudest passing of gas I’ve ever heard. My uncle can barely contain his laughter, but the young server doesn’t even blink.

Grandmother: “Excuse me! As I was saying, the shrimp with the collard greens, dear.”

Teenager Server: “Absolutely, ma’am, that will be right out for you.”

The server walked away still without any trace of a snicker or embarrassment. Now that’s professionalism! Just goes to show that age and maturity are not always connected!

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For A Talented Pianist, She Never Strikes The Right Tone

, , , | Right | October 20, 2020

I work as a concierge at an assisted living home where most of our residents have some form of dementia. Not all of them have it, though; some are here for other reasons, such as this woman who is here because she can’t properly administer her own medications or care for herself well due to physical medical issues. Her mind is fully intact. She is, however, quite self-entitled due to living a life of luxury in New York City as a concert pianist in her younger years.

Me: *Answering the phone* “[Home], this is [My Name], how can I—”

Resident: *Cuts me off* “I need to talk to the nurse! Now!”

Me: “Are you okay, [Resident]?”

Resident: “I’m fine. I need to talk to the nurse. Immediately.”

Me: “Is there something I can help you with?”

Resident: “No. The nurse. Now!”

Me: “I will tell [Nurse] that you would like to speak with her. Let me see if I can get her on the phone. Can I put you on hold for a moment?”

Resident: “Get her on the phone now.”

Me: “All right, [Resident]. Just a moment.”

I use the walkie and then the phone to try to get a hold of the nurse, who has more than seventy other patients to see to. The entire call, including me trying to get a hold of [Nurse], has taken less than four minutes. I go back to the resident, who is still on hold.

Resident:Finally! [Nurse]? I’ve been waiting on hold for an hour. This is unacceptable!”

Me: “It’s still [My Name], [Resident]. I was unable to get [Nurse] for you, but I will text her and let her know you would like to speak with her.”

Resident:I have been. On hold. For a d*** hour!

I drop into the same voice of superiority that she’s been using, albeit quieter.

Me: “Actually, as of this moment, it’s been four minutes and forty-five seconds according to my call timer.”

The resident is quiet for a moment and then speaks contritely.

Resident: “Just have her speak with me as soon as possible, please.” *Hangs up*

This woman is a trial. But I’ve found that using the same tone of voice she uses gets through to her. For the record, the nurse was able to see her within fifteen minutes of this. And what was the super urgent problem she had? She wanted her doctor’s phone number — something I could have easily helped her with, had she only asked.

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If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 8

, , , , | Healthy | October 5, 2020

I work in a specialist nursing home for people with severe and enduring mental health problems. A female resident with South East Asian origins enjoys cooking and offers to make traditional chai tea for staff, under supervision.

Whilst being assisted by a support worker whose English is not great, she adds more than fifty teaspoons of sugar to the pan, as well as spices and other ingredients.

Me: “This tea tastes really good!”

Those of us who don’t mind the sweetness enjoy it.

Then, the support worker tells a colleague about part of the cooking process.

Support Worker: “She just crushed the walnuts by crunching them in her mouth and then spitting them into the pan.”

She hadn’t realised that people would find this revolting!

We agreed that when she made it again, she needed to use appropriate equipment to do that task. Thankfully, the support worker saw the sense of this.

I was not too concerned about this, given how many motorway service stations I ate in during my childhood in the 1970s, where I probably ingested far worse!

Related:
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 7
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 6
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 5
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 4
If At First You Don’t Succeed, Chai Again, Part 3

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Having More Than One Name Is Confusing

, , , | Right | September 29, 2020

A woman comes in to visit her mother. She’s been here several times before, each time signing in with no trouble. She’s in her forties and doesn’t have any visible disabilities.

Visitor: “Where’s my badge?”

I tilt the sign-in tablet so I can see it.

Me: “Oh, you just need your mother’s last name here.”

Visitor: “It is there! See?”

She points to it as if I don’t know where to look.

Me: “Yes, but you need just her last name, not her first.”

I fix it for her and hand her badge to her. She just stares at me a second.

Visitor: “Oh… that’s so confusing.”

She wandered off, leaving me thinking, “Why wasn’t it confusing the last dozen or so times you did it?” She must have been having a really off day.

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Does Kevin’s Mom Know Her Son’s A Jerk?

, , , , , | Healthy | September 13, 2020

I work in an assisted living facility. Due to the health crisis, we’ve had to stop visits to the elderly. After some work, we created a space where people could see their families through a glass, similar to those in ticket booths. In order to visit the elderly through there, families need to make an appointment.

Today, I got a call from a man wanting to visit his mum on the weekend. I told him everything was booked. He said, in a very aggravated tone, that he hadn’t seen his mum in two months. I said I understood, and he immediately cut me off, saying I didn’t understand a thing, that it was a simple request, and that I should be able to do something so basic.

After a bit of back and forth, I told him he could either book for the weekend after or see his mum through one of the gates this weekend. He said he was no dog to be left out on the street.

I couldn’t help but think, “If you wanted to see your mum so bad, wouldn’t you take what you could get?”

After being called incompetent for the seventh time, I couldn’t take it anymore and told him, “Well, sir, since you insist on coming this weekend but refuse to see your mother through the gates, unless you drop from a parachute onto the roof in order to see her, I can’t help you.”

He said, in a very high and mighty tone, that he was going to call my boss and tell him my answers. I called my boss to warn him about the headache heading his way and he laughed at the parachute comment.

It turns out that the guy is known for being impossible to talk to.

What do you call a male Karen? A Gareth? A Kevin? Either way, I had one of those. And I’m not looking forward to completing the set.

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