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It’s Alarming That You Don’t See The Urgency Of The Situation

, , , , , | Healthy | March 19, 2021

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I get a job at the front desk of my college residence hall during my freshman year. Most phone calls are pretty basic; people want to know when the desk closes or when they can collect their packages.

But this one still boggles my mind.

Me: “[School] housing and dining, my name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Resident: “Hi, do we have an on-call nurse?”

Me: ”No, we don’t. Is this an emergency scenario?”

Resident: “No, my roommate lost vision in her left eye for like six minutes.”

I am absolutely speechless. I would think most people would go to an emergency room or at least schedule a doctor’s appointment when something of that severity happened. My first plan of action would definitely not be to call the front desk.

Me: “Does she still not have vision?”

Resident: “No, she can see now.”

Me: “Then maybe schedule a doctor visit or go to the ER if it happens again?”

Resident: “I think that’s a good idea, but she says she doesn’t want to. Thanks, anyway.”

I didn’t know what to say. I left my shift that day very confused about that phone call.

None Of This Qualifies As Helpful

, , , , , | Healthy | December 5, 2020

I send an email to my doctor’s office, through the HMO system, detailing my symptoms and asking for advice.

Nurse’s Email: “Dear Mrs. [My Name], I am [Nurse] working with your doctor. I have read your email. I am not qualified to respond to this email. Someone else will get in touch with you.”

When I stop laughing, I call the official HMO Medical Advice Line and list my symptoms.

Medical Advice Person: “Do you want a [widely-spreading illness] test?”

Me: “I don’t think so, but I’m not medically trained, so…”

Medical Advice Person: “Oh, I’m not medically trained, either! I just answer the phones.”

I gave up, had some chicken soup, and went to bed.

I Mux Ask You To Stop Being Max Crazy

, , , , , , | Right | November 30, 2020

I am working in a pet store which specializes in reptiles of all kinds. A middle-aged lady comes in, and I ask if there is something special she is looking for.

Lady: “I want to see your selection of Mox.”

Me: “Mox? I’m not sure exactly what it is you are looking for.”

Lady: “Mox! Mox!

Me: “I’m sorry, but I have never heard of Mox. Do you know what kind of animal it is? Perhaps a more generic term?”

Lady: *Huffy* “Well, I thought you would know something simple like that. It’s a turtle. Mox turtles!”

Me: “Oh, I see. Perhaps you mean box turtles? We do have some; let me show them to you.”

Lady: “No, I specifically said mox turtles. M. O. X. Mox!

Me: “Sorry, I have been in this business for many years, and I am unfamiliar with Mox turtles. Where did you learn about them?”

Lady:Well! I was talking to my sister who watches all these cooking shows, and she was telling me about this recipe for Mox turtle soup, and I wanted to make some.”

Me: “In the first place, this is a pet store, not a butcher shop. Our pets are not to be eaten. Secondly, I think you must be referring to mock turtle soup. It is not made with turtles but is made to mock, or pretend to be, turtles. It is made to duplicate the texture and flavor of real turtle soup. I will not sell any of my turtles to you. Now please leave.”

Lady: “Well, if you don’t have Mox, why didn’t you just tell me before you said anything? I’ll just go somewhere else to get some Mox.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me before you said anything?”


When You Have To Be A Medium To Find A Medium

, , , , | Right | November 5, 2020

I’m ringing up a customer for a few shirts.

Customer: “Oh, and this one didn’t have a tag. But I think it was $40.”

He hands me a blue plaid shirt from a particular brand that is known for being difficult to find in our inventory system.

Me: *Groaning internally* “Oh, I see. Can I actually have you run back to the men’s department and grab a different one? I’d need to find it in inventory, and that could take a while.”

Customer: “It was the last one in a medium. But you can look it up, right? It’s $40.”

Me: “I can try, sir. But it might be easier to just have you grab one in a different size, then, and—”

Customer: “I’m not waiting in line again! See, look: it’s from [Brand], and it’s a men’s size medium blue plaid shirt, and it’s $40.”

Sighing internally, I open our inventory search system and type in “[Brand] shirt men’s” and then narrow the field to display only products we have in stock. There are over forty results. I start sifting through the options, comparing grainy display photos to the shirt I have in front of me, while the customer huffs with impatience.

Customer: *Irate* “What’s taking you so long?”

Me: *Turning the screen so he can see* “As you can see, this brand makes a lot of men’s shirts.”

Customer: “But it’s blue.”

Fed up, I click on one of the results. It immediately displays a list of all the colors and sizes for that shirt.

Me: “Would that be lake blue, ocean blue, sky blue, cobalt blue, fresh blue, winter blue, navy— Well, it isn’t navy blue…”

Customer: “It’s light blue. And it’s $40! Can’t you just call someone to find it?”

Looking the customer dead in the face, I call menswear on the radio.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker]. Any chance you could get me a UPC for a [Brand] men’s blue plaid shirt, size medium?”

Coworker: *Over the radio* “A [Brand] plaid shirt? You’re joking, right?”

Customer: *Furious* “This is ridiculous! Fine! I’ll go to menswear and get it myself!”

He storms off, leaving his shirts at the register. It takes him a full ten minutes to come back. Finally, he walks up to the register with three different [Brand] blue plaid shirts in his hands.

Customer: *Sheepish* “These are all larges. Can I see the one I was looking at earlier, so I know which one to give you?”

You’re Here To Sleep, Not Eat!

, , , , , , | Working | October 29, 2020

We are a couple of middle-aged Brits who decide to take the holiday of a lifetime in Colorado and the Rockies. This is in the early 1990s before the Internet, and bookings have to be made by telephone. My husband’s first name sounds the same in the UK and the USA but is spelled differently.

We stay one night at a hotel in Denver which is part of a well-known international chain. It doesn’t go well! To start with, the key card will not unlock our room door, and we have to be helped by a member of the cleaning staff who is working nearby.

The next morning, around 8:30, we go into the restaurant for breakfast; we’re the only guests there. We are seated by the busboy who brings us coffee and disappears out the back. So, we sit, and sit, and finally, we call out:

Us: “Is there anyone here?”

No one appears, so we walk out. As we go through the door, a woman appears from nowhere, holding my husband’s spectacles case which he left on the table, hands it to him, and walks away!

We decide we will have coffee in the lobby, but no, all the containers are empty and all the cups are dirty.

We load up our car and go to the desk to check out. Eventually, someone comes to the desk and prints our bill, quoting the room charge and a forty-seven-dollars bar charge, spoken very quickly and quietly.

As we have been nowhere near the bar, we ask to see the bar bill, and we find that it is signed using the American spelling of my husband’s name. As soon as we point this out, the charge is immediately taken off the bill, so quickly that we get the impression that this scam happens all the time.

We have since had several holidays in the area — and love it! — but never would we stay at this hotel again, and the next time we drove past it, we saw that it was no longer part of the well-known international chain.