A few years ago, I suffered a concussion at work. I had clipped the lid of a plastic recycling bin on a door handle and, due to the force I was shoving it with, managed to have the lid flip back on my head with enough force that it broke my glasses.

The first problem occurred four hours after the incident. I was still at work because we always had staffing issues and didn’t want to screw them up. I talked to my manager.

Me: “Hey, my head is still pounding and I am dizzy. I need to go home.”

He proceeded to SLAM his clipboard down and walk away. I went home.

A few days later, I got my concussion diagnosis and proceeded to take a few months off. Eventually, I managed to get into a concussion clinic where they started helping me through dealing with the pain. 

I had a pair of friends working there. The second issue I had was that they let me know that management and other staff members didn’t believe me because, “You can’t get a concussion from plastic.” I was pretty upset about that and was considering whether it was worth going back if they didn’t believe I had been injured over the last few months.

The third issue occurred one day when I lost a filling. I skipped my shift so I could get it fixed instead. Where I live, when you get injured at work, you are given a caseworker and they review your case, make sure you are doing what you need to do, etc. He called me and said that I was under review for not being injured; they had gotten calls that I was okay, and me missing my shift that day was a red flag. I burst into tears.

That was the last straw. After I finished my next shift, I handed my resignation in to that job. Just because you can’t see an injury doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, and the workers essentially bullied me out of there.

I found out a year later that my replacement had a heck of a time trying to do my job because, apparently, I did more stuff than they realized, and then they bullied her out, too. I’m unsurprised that the building still has a high turnover.

I answer the phone, as I do hundreds of times a day. The caller sounds to be in her thirties or forties.

Me: “Good morning, [Business]; this is [My Name].”

Caller: *Silence*

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Oh… uh… Who is this?”

Me: “[My Name] at [Business].”

Caller: “Is this the assisted living place at [Hospital about twenty miles away]?”

Me: “No, this is [Business]. We’re not associated with [Hospital].”

Caller: “Oh… Can you transfer me to them?”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. We’re not associated with them. I have no way to do that. I could—”

Caller: “Well, you’re just no help at all!” *Hangs up*

I was going to offer to Google the correct number for them, but some people just can’t be helped.

I work at the reception desk at a retirement center. We frequently receive calls from confused/sundowning elderly people trying to contact friends or family who live in the facility.

Me: *Answering the phone* “Good morning! This is [Facility] how may I help you?”

There is no answer, only the sound of shuffling and button pressing.

Me: *Louder* “Hello? Hello, this is [Facility]. May I help you?”

There was more button pressing, and then in the background, there was a sudden, scandalized cry of, “GRANDPA, NO!” before the call abruptly disconnected.

I am working the front desk at an assisted living facility when two family members come up to look at the outing lists I have posted on the side of the desk.

Woman: “So… this outing today to [Mexican Restaurant]. Can she go on this?”

Me: “It looks like there’s enough space left! You’re welcome to sign her up.”

Woman: “But… then there’s this bus ride to tour [Local University Campus], too. How can she go to both?”

Man: “Yeah, that might be too much for her.”

Me: “Well, they’re both on different days.”

He points at dates in bold on the two sheets.

Man: “This one for the restaurant is for today and this one is for next week.”

Woman: “But if she goes to this one—”

She points to today’s outing.

Woman: “—at 11:30 and then the other at 1:00, she’ll have a really busy day and might get over-tired.”

The man is nodding along.

Me: “But… they’re not on the same day, so that wouldn’t be a problem. The restaurant outings usually take about two hours, sometimes two and a half or three with driving time. The bus tour takes around an hour. And our staff will always bring residents back who aren’t feeling up to it anymore.”

The woman nods while staring back and forth at both sheets.

Woman: “Okay… I’m just worried that two outings in one day might be pushing it.”

I am looking back and forth between the two.

Me: “They’re on separate days. This one is for today—” *points to it* “—and this one—” *points to it* “—is for next week. We only ever do one outing on a day.”

Woman: “I’m not sure… That’s quite a few hours out of the community in one day.”

Me: *Inner sigh* “Here.”

I pull out the calendar and point to today.

Me: “This is today. Today is the outing to [Mexican Restaurant].”

I slide my finger through the rest of the week and on to next Friday.

Me: “And here is the outing to [Bus Tour], a week from today. Each outing is a week apart, on different Fridays.”

Woman: “Hmm…”

Man: “But if she gets too tired doing two outings today, she can come back early?”

Me: *Giving up* “Yes, they will bring her back early if she gets too tired.”

Woman: “Okay, let’s sign her up for both of today’s outings, then.”

They signed the resident up for both of “today’s” outings and left. I have no idea where their brains were. Seriously, how else could I have explained it?! People have real issues paying attention.

I work in an assisted living facility. A woman comes into the front lobby and asks for our director. She’s expecting her for an interview.

Me: “I will let [Director] know you’re here.”

The woman keeps standing over my desk, staring at me.

Me: “You’re welcome to have a seat.”

Woman: “No, thank you.”

She continues to stand there, hovering.

Me: “Okay…”

I call the director to let her know her interview is here and then continue my typing work. She is still standing there.

Woman: “Is that for everybody?”

She points to candy on my desk that is partially hidden by the taller part of my desk and phone.

Me: “No… that’s my coworker’s.”

The woman gives me a suspicious look.

Woman: “Okay.”

Me: “I can’t just hand it out.”

Woman: “Fine.”

She crossed her arms and pouted. My boss came out and they went off for the interview. The candy was mine, by the way, not a random coworker’s. But who does that?! Lurking over a reception desk, not taking a seat when it’s offered, and trying to pilfer someone’s candy that’s obviously hidden on their desk…