Getting High (Prices) On Medication

, , , , | Healthy | April 22, 2019

(I’m at the pharmacy to pick up one of my regular prescriptions. This one is about $5. After the pharmacy tech verifies my identity, the following occurs:)

Tech: “Okay, just this medication? That will be $45.”

Me: “Wait, what? It’s usually $5. Why is it so expensive?”

Tech: “Hmm, looks like we didn’t run it through your insurance.”

Me: “…”

Tech: “…”

Me: “Could you run it through my insurance?”

Tech: *surprised* “You want me to do that?”

Me: “Yes. Yes, I do.”

(I did get my medication for the right price and headed home. This was over a year ago, and I’m still baffled why asking for it to be run through my insurance was such an odd request.)

I Shall Diminish, And Go To The East(er)

, , , , , | Working | April 21, 2019

(It is the Saturday before Easter. I work in a flooring store at the front desk reception. After a busy day, we are closing the showroom and the president of the company is leaving. As he is walking out the door, he is waving goodbye.)

Me: “Bye! Have a happy Easter!”

Boss: *smiles and laughs while he waves out the door*

(I was a little puzzled by his reaction, but then I remembered… my boss is Jewish. I had just wished my JEWISH boss a HAPPY EASTER! I laid my head on my desk, utterly mortified by what I had just done.)

This Driver Is Driving People Crazy

, , , , , | Learning | April 21, 2019

(I’m a teacher. The music teacher and I are unloading a bus in the morning when a grown woman gets off. This is not unusual; sometimes parents ride with their children when they’ve had behavioral issues on the bus. The woman goes to the edge of the parking lot and starts talking on a cell phone.)

Music Teacher: “Notice anything strange about that woman?”

Me: “No, what?”

Music Teacher: “She’s not on a cell phone.”

(I look again. She’s not on the phone. She’s just… talking. By this time, the kids are all in the building.)

Music Teacher: “I’m getting the principal.”

(The woman approached me and began talking. It became immediately obvious that she was not all there. She wandered off and the police were called. As it turns out, she was a mentally disturbed woman who had just randomly climbed on the bus that morning. The bus driver was a substitute and didn’t ask the woman her business. When the woman began ranting to the busload of children, the substitute driver didn’t radio for help or advice, but just went along on her route. When the woman got off at the end of the line, the driver didn’t inform anyone what had been going on. The driver no longer works for the district.)

Perm-anently Avoiding That Place

, , , , , | Working | April 20, 2019

(My boyfriend has very curly, brown, shoulder-length hair, and I have black, straight hair a couple of inches longer.)

Me: *pointing to boyfriend* “I’d like a perm with curls just like those.”

Hair Stylist: *glares at me like I have two heads* “No can do.”

Me: “Er… no?”

Hair Stylist: “You want hair just like his?”

Me: “The curls, yeah. Is it possible to perm my hair that way? His are natural.”

Hair Stylist: “If you want his curls, he’s got to cut his hair.”

Boyfriend: “Are you saying match my length, too? No, I don’t want a cut.”

Hair Stylist: “If she curls, her hair will be much shorter than yours! She just can’t have curly hair your length if you won’t cut yours!”

Me: “I meant only like his in the size of the curls.”

Hair Stylist: “Look… If you curl your hair, it will be much shorter than his!”

Me: “I know!”

Hair Stylist: *to boyfriend* “Are you getting that cut?”

Boyfriend: “No, I’m not.”

Hair Stylist: “Then she can’t have your curls.”

Boyfriend: “Forget the length already. She would like curls that match these.”

Hair Stylist: “I’ve already said, she can’t have your curls if you aren’t getting a cut yourself.”

Me: “I know my hair will be shorter! The whole point is to have curls that look like that.”

(Even a second hair stylist repeated the first one. Nothing was ever said about matching color. We left and went somewhere else where they gave me my shorter, curly perm with no problem.)

You Can Tell From My Face That I’m Not Interested

, , , , , , | Working | April 19, 2019

(Our mall is full of kiosks with people trying to sell random makeup brands, cell phone accessories, etc. I don’t begrudge anyone doing their job, and I understand a lot of them are under pressure to make sales. However, some of them REALLY need to work on their pitch. One day, I’m walking past a kiosk where a woman is trying to sell expensive skin cream.)

Saleswoman: “Here you go, ma’am! Sit down right here.” *pointing to her chair arranged in front of her mirrors*

Me: *smiling and shaking my head* “No, thanks. I’m not interested.”

Saleswoman: *pulls a concerned, comically disgusted face and speaks in a tone of voice as if I were on my deathbed* “Oh, ma’am, I have to ask… What do you use for your facial cream?”

(Maybe I should have been offended or something, which is what my husband told me, but it was just SUCH an incredibly bad attempt to, I don’t know, neg me into a sale or whatever that I just burst into disbelieving laughter at her and kept walking. She turned bright red and glared at me. Hey, maybe I COULD use a fancy skincare regimen, but with a sales pitch like that, there was no way I was going to buy it from her.)

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