(This is with one of my before-school music groups. The students are nine to eleven years old. Panic buying has started, even though no cases have been reported in our county yet, although other areas of Florida have had it.)

Girl #1: “You know there’s not going to be any more toilet paper or hand sanitizer.”

Girl #2: “Really?”

Me: “No, not really. Let’s get back to practice.”

Girl #1: “But they’re closing every school and store. You can’t buy anything anymore and they’re even closing factories because people can’t touch things.”

Girl #2: “Ew! I don’t want their hands touching my toilet paper!”

Boy #1: “Yeah, because they have to cut each sheet individually.”

Me: “That’s not how it works and that’s not what we’re doing right now. You can research how toilet paper is made on your computers later. But they’re not closing anything near us, so stop talking, stop trying to scare others, and let’s get back to playing. Now.”

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(I work at a fine-dining restaurant chain as a hostess. We have a happy hour deal most days of the week in the bar/lounge. I can’t make reservations in the lounge for this time according to our policy. We also use a computer system for our guests so we have information noted on most of our regulars. I get a phone call.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Restaurant]. This is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi, [My Name], this is [Caller]; you guys know who I am. I should be in the system. I’m there every day. I want to make a reservation for four people tonight at 6:30?”

Me: “Of course, give me just a few moments to get that in the system… All right, you’re all set for—” *repeats information back to her* “—we’ll see you then.”

Caller: “Oh, I also would like to make that for the bar.”

Me: “Okay. Ma’am, I’ll go ahead and write that you prefer the bar, but I can’t guarantee a table in there for you as that is during our happy hour and it is first-come-first-serve.”

Caller: *scoffs* “Useless. Is [Coworker] there? She knows who I am. She’ll help me.”

Me: “No, ma’am, she’s not here today, but that is our policy and she would have to tell you the same thing. I do apologize for the inconvenience.”

Caller: “Inconvenience? This is ridiculous. Do you know who I am? I’m in there every day and I’ve never had this issue.”

(I look at her recent history and notes and see that she has been told multiple times by multiple coworkers about the policy for the lounge, but I decide it’s not worth it to give attitude back to her and risk getting in trouble with my manager.)

Me: “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but that’s been our policy for over a year now and no one should be guaranteeing you a table in the bar during those hours.”

Caller: “Well, they are because they always let me sit in the bar. I want to talk to your manager right this second. They know who I am.”

(I transfer her to the general manager and get a call from the office a few minutes later.)

General Manager: “Hey, [My Name], so that woman that you spoke to…”

Me: “Yes, did I do anything wrong?”

General Manager: “No, no, of course not. That was [Caller]; she does this at least once a month. When she calls, just take the reservation and don’t give her a lounge table.”

Me: “Okay, will do.”

General Manager: “Oh, and if she ever asks for a manager, tell her we’re not available.”

(This was overheard in Diagon Alley at Universal Studios:)

Customer: “Hi! I just need a bottle of water.”

Employee: “Of course!”

(He pulls out a bottle of water. It’s labeled “Gilly Water,” like in the Harry Potter books, since we are in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Gilly Water is just regular water, but it just has a different label.)

Customer: “A regular bottle of water, please.”

Employee: “Ma’am, this is regular water. The label is just different.”

Customer: “I want real water!”

Employee: “I don’t know what else to tell you. This is regular water and you’re holding up the line. You can get a different bottle somewhere else that’s not over here.”

Customer: “Fine!”

(She stormed off to the nearest restaurant. Little did she know, that restaurant also had Gilly Water!)

(I’ve unfortunately inherited my dad’s severe reactions to orthodontic work. A procedure that would cause most people a day or two of mild pain will cause me a week of severe pain and residual pain for another two. Nothing seems to help and dentists don’t always take it seriously. One summer, I’m working my first two customer service jobs and I get some dental work done. I’m in my usual pain, meaning I can’t talk for more than a few seconds at a time, which is fine at [Job #1]; it’s the front desk of a gym, so it’s mostly just, “Hi, how are you?” But [Job #2] is cashiering at a restaurant, which means I spend most of my day talking. I go into [Job #2] a few hours after getting the dental work and these are the conversations that happen for the next few days:)

Me: *explains dental work, level of pain, and requests non-talking jobs*

Shift Lead: “Are you sure?”

Me: *in a slow whisper, which is all I can handle* “Absolutely. I cannot talk today and I probably won’t be able to stay on register all shift for at least three days.”

Shift Lead: “Okay…”

(They seem to be willing to accommodate, but then…)

Shift Lead: *thirty minutes later* “Hey, can you get on register?”

Me: “Umm… No? Remember it hurts to talk?”

Shift Lead: “Oh, okay. Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes.”

Shift Lead: *two hours later* “Hey, are you feeling better? Can you get on register? [Coworker] needs to go on break.”

Me: “Can anybody else do it?”

Shift Lead: “Well…”

Me: “Okay, fine, but no more than fifteen minutes.”

(Ten minutes pass.)

Me: “Sorry, I tried but I really can’t. You’re going to have to find someone else.”

(It finally seems to get through, but then, the next day…)

Shift Lead: *in pre-shift meeting* “Okay, [My Name] you’re on register today.”

Me: *thinking* “Seriously?” *saying* “I feel just as bad as I did yesterday. I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

(The same thing repeated the next day, and on the fourth day, I finally felt like I could do half a shift on register without too much pain… Buuuuuuut, you guessed it — the same questions were repeated all day again. I was eventually fine and went back to my normal duties, but having had several customer service jobs since then, the situation seems a lot sillier than I realized it was at the time. It makes absolute sense that they need me on my regular job, but when I couldn’t do it they didn’t hold to the accommodations they agreed to or ask me to go home until I felt better, which would have saved them the cost of paying an employee that couldn’t do their job!)

(I do real estate appraisals for banks. The majority of these are “drive-by” where I just take pictures of the home from the exterior, but once in a while, I get orders that require me to go into the home and take photos of all of the rooms. The banks outsource these jobs to a third party, who has hired me, so I don’t always know which bank requested the appraisal, or the reason for the request. Typically it’s for a home equity loan or loan modification. Most people know why the bank wants to appraise their home. I get an order and call the homeowner.)

Owner: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] from [Company]. I have a request for an appraisal for your property at [Address].”

Owner: “What? Who is this?”

Me: “This is [My Name] from [Company]; is this your property at [Address]?”

Owner: “I don’t know who you are! Why are you calling? Who told you to call me?”

Me: “I don’t kno—”

Owner: *losing her mind* “Who are you? I don’t know anything about this! What is this about?!”

(Cue five minutes of her completely melting down.)

Me: “Have a nice day.” *click*

(I called this woman on my cell phone, and I, unfortunately, don’t have a blocked caller ID, so about five minutes later she calls me back. I do not pick up. I think she thinks she is calling a large business. She leaves me the following voicemail messages, which I have transcribed verbatim:)

Voicemail: “This is [Owner]. I just received a call that is very disturbing for a Sunday afternoon, saying that someone wanted to come and appraise my home. I couldn’t get any answers from anyone — not from anyone! Who it was, where it was, and why it needed to be done. And until you can call someone on a Sunday and give these answers, do not call me again. DO NOT CALL ME AGAIN!”

(Then, five minutes later, another call:)

Voicemail: “Again, this is [Owner]. I did not like the idea of someone calling me on a Sunday afternoon to inquire about an appraisal. When you call someone you give your name, where you are calling from, and who is putting out this information. I have reported this number to the police. If you want to call me back, do so tomorrow morning.”

(Then, about two hours later:)

Voicemail: “My name is [Owner]. This is my third call. I just thought I would call you as many times as you called me with the nonsense about appraising my home. When you call someone you tell them where you’re calling from, why you’re calling… You don’t do that. When we try to reach you by telephone you’re never available. So, neither am I. You’re d*** foolish to do this, and I have contacted the police. So, bye-bye! I’ll talk to you later.”

(Then, at 8:00 am the next morning:)

Voicemail: “Good morning. This is [Owner]! I thought I’d be early this morning and call you because you keep calling me. You never leave your name, never a number that we can call you back, and when we do you’re unavailable. You call and say my house is up for assessment, but you don’t say why. All I want to know is why! But I will keep calling you, and your name and number have been submitted to the Attorney General, so I suggest you take your number away. Goodbye, and have a nice, nice day!”

(The sucky part of this story is that the woman would not stop losing her s*** long enough for me to tell her that I’d be happy to get more information for her about which bank ordered the appraisal and why. I gave her my name and company name twice but she just wouldn’t listen to me. I’ve been doing this for six years; obviously, I don’t just call people and say, “Hi, I’m a stranger. Can I come inside your house tomorrow around three?” I thought this woman was never going to stop calling me. I was planning to go to the police myself if she called one more time; luckily the calls stopped. I was begging the company I work for to have someone call her and straighten her out. I don’t know if that ever happened.)