My father has high blood pressure, and from time to time, he experiences prolonged nosebleeds. If the bleeding lasts longer than twenty minutes, he must be taken to the hospital. This happens one evening at around 10:00 pm, so I drive him to the emergency department at a nearby hospital. Note that this occurs during the global health crisis where only a certain amount of people are allowed in a room.

When we arrived at the registration area, they need to take my father’s blood pressure and ask him some questions. I am told to wait outside as only two people, including the nurse, are allowed in the assessment room.

The room is located right in front of the entrance where a few security guards are monitoring the entrance. While I wait, one of them starts to talk to me. He asks me what happened and I tell him briefly; it makes me feel better to talk to someone. Initially, everything appears to be nothing more than a normal conversation.

Security Guard: “Are you all right, miss?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m just a bit stressed. This is how I would normally react when this happens to my dad.”

Security Guard: “Can I get you water or anything?”

Me: “I’m okay, thank you very much. I really appreciate it.”

The nurse gets my attention as my father is done registering in the assessment room and has been redirected to the examination room to see the doctor. The security guard knows that I have to go in with my father.

Security Guard: “I think we should exchange phone numbers, if you are interested in grabbing a coffee sometime. I am [Security Guard], by the way.”

I am taken aback as the hospital is one of the wrong places to pick up women.

Me: “I gotta run now. Can’t leave my dad waiting.”

I take my father into the examination room. The doctor sees him and, because his blood pressure is way above average, he is given a pill to lower it. We have to wait for about an hour. After that, he is fine and the doctor determines that it is nothing major and it is just one of those moments. We are given the green light to go home. As I am exiting the hospital, [Security Guard] is still on duty and keeps hitting on me.

Security Guard: “Are you willing to accept the invitation I offered you?”

Me: “I am actually married with a four-year-old and am expecting a pair of twins due in July of 2021.”

He was speechless. At least I got to see his reaction at the right moment. And no, I am not married and have no children!

I am working as a cashier in a well-known grocery store. Sometimes I get questions I have no idea how to answer.

A customer approaches holding a package of chicken.

Customer: “What does ‘air-chilled chicken’ mean?”

I pause.

Me: “It’s chicken… that’s been chilled… by the air.”

I still don’t know the difference between regular and air-chilled two years later.

I own a small shop in a very touristic area. As a courtesy, we will accept American money, but we give back change in Canadian money. It’s our legal currency before all, and it’s so rare that we get American money that it isn’t worth keeping a full set of change for it. Most tourists (from anywhere) will opt to use credit cards, which we accept, too.

I’m working in the back when I hear screaming coming from the front, so I go to see what’s the matter.

A lady is having a full temper-tantrum because she’s getting Canadian money back for her very precious and expensive — her words — American money. She’s contesting our exchange rate. We are not a bank, and the exchange rate changes every day, so we round it up every week or so. She keeps calling us thieves, crooks, and whatnot. Then, she starts calling our currency “monopoly money” and worthless.

She rejects paying by card, claiming we’ll clone it or something. All of this is under the eyes of a mortified but silent husband. At this point, I’m done with her; I’d rather lose a sale and have her out of here.

Me: “Okay, it seems we won’t reach a satisfactory solution here, so keep your money, we keep our goods, and have a nice day.”

I gesture to the door.

Customer: “What? No, I want those things and I can afford them! I’m not poor!”

Me: “No, we are done here. Please leave.”

Customer: “No! I’m not leaving without my things!”

Me: “Yes, you are. Bye.”

I open the door to incite them to leave.

Customer: “No! No! NOOO!”

She flails about and knocks down a nearby display, breaking multiple items.

Customer: “I want my stuff! You can’t make me leave! You can’t!“

Me: “Okay, now you can stay to pay for those.”

Customer: “I ain’t paying for any broken crap!”

Me: “You break, you pay.”

Customer: “No, I want my stuff!”

She points to what she selected first; it’s still on the counter. I have had enough. I gesture to my employee to keep her busy for a few minutes while I go call the police. Thankfully, the station is only a few streets away and they make it while she’s still here.

Two officers walk in and ask what’s going on. Before I can reply, the lady butts in.

Customer: “Arrest them both, right now! They are thieves, trying to force me from my precious and expensive American money! I’m not buying anything and they won’t let me leave without giving all my precious and expensive American money to them!”

One of the officers tries to talk her down into a calmer attitude, taking her to one side. The other starts asking my cashier and me for our version. I retell him everything and show the pile of broken items with the emptied display right beside him. I also offer to go watch the security camera in the back with him. He accepts, and when we come back, both officers exchange a little chat.

Officer: “So, what do you want to do?”

Me: “I would just like her to pay for the destroyed items and leave.”

Customer: “I didn’t break anything! It’s them! They broke it all and they are trying to pin it on me to rob me of my precious and expensive American money!”

Officer: “We watched the security camera; we clearly can see you throwing that display down. We suggest you pay for the broken items, or we will have to arrest you for destruction of merchandise.”

She looks concerned and says she’ll agree to pay, to everyone’s relief. My cashier scans all the boxes of the broken stuff.

Cashier: “Okay, it’s [total], please.”

Customer: “Okay, here.”

My cashier extended her hand, but the lady didn’t put the expected money or card in it. She instead spit in her hand!

She was handcuffed and arrested for assault on my cashier and destruction of merchandise. As she was dragged out to the police car, the husband, who had watched everything from a distance, offered to pay for the broken items, so the destruction of merchandise charge was dropped.

He could not talk off the assault charge.

In the end, they went away after the officers took all our depositions, and I gave a copy of the camera footage. I also gave my poor cashier the rest of the day off.

Related:
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 6
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 5
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 4
Loonie Over A Toonie, Part 3

I work at a call center for an airline. A passenger calls, already upset, because a third-party booking site charged her infant for an adult ticket. I agree that this is wrong and she should call the ones who issued the ticket to refund that ticket and rebook. 

Caller: “Well, you’re the airline. Why can’t you do it?”

Me: “The third-party has your money and they are the ones in control of your reservation. The only information we have in our system are the flight details, but we can’t even see how much you paid for the ticket. It is them that made the error, but they are perfectly equipped to handle this situation so they can help you with no problem!”

Caller: “I waited on hold with you guys for half an hour and you won’t even help me!”

Me: “If I could, I would refund it for you, especially since you are calling within the same day as booking your ticket. Unfortunately, though, you bought the ticket through a third-party and, as I said, they have your money, not us.”

Caller: *Outraged* “You guys make this mistake and then won’t even help me! I’m never flying with you again!”

Customers always come up with the most creative names for the act of tapping the card on the terminal in order to pay. (P-pad, By-pass, Paypal, etc.) This, however, was one we hadn’t heard yet.

Customer: “Do you have the ‘touch down?'” *Gestures with his card*