Fluffy’s More High-Maintenance Than Most Pets Of His Kind

, , , , , | Healthy | March 23, 2020

(I work at the front desk at an animal clinic that is located on a street with many assisted living facilities. Most of them are not pet-friendly — they may have an office cat but residents can’t have personal pets — except for the largest of them which is right next door and pet-friendly.

We have a deal with the management of this facility where, whenever a new resident moves in with an animal, we set them up as a patient with us, the facility handles all their billing, we send care instructions to them to make sure the residents don’t forget the doses, and when making appointments we contact both the owner and the facility so they can make sure the owner doesn’t have something else scheduled that day and doesn’t forget their appointment.

For the humans who think they are more self-sufficient than they really are, we make sure someone from the facility is available and needs to take “important paperwork” over to the clinic at the same time the owner needs to leave, to make sure they get there and back safely. Sometimes they slip through alone, though, or decide they have an appointment when we don’t have them on the books, so we are used to having random elderly people coming in.

A clearly distraught elderly woman carrying a small dog carrier comes in one day.)

Woman: “Please, you have to help me!”

Me: “What can we do?”

Woman: “It’s Fluffy! He’s not acting right and I think I need to put him to sleep.” *sobs*

Me: “Oh, dear, we’ll get you and Fluffy in to see the doctor and take a look at him to decide if that is the best thing to do, okay? Now, what is your name so I can pull your chart?”

Woman: “It’s [Name I don’t have in my system].”

Me: “I can’t find you on the computer; have you been in before?”

Woman: “Oh, no, Fluffy and I just moved into our new apartment today and you are so much closer than his old doctor.”

(I figure she is so new the facility hasn’t had time to bring us her paperwork, so I get Fluffy’s age and breed and go about making a chart. We’ll get the rest of her information from the facility when we contact them. Thankfully, we’ve had a cancelation so I can get her into an exam room right away.

A while later, she comes out of the exam room with the doctor, with one of our techs carrying the carrier for her, much happier than when she came in.)

Woman: “And you really think it will cure him, Doctor?”

Doc: “If it doesn’t, you just have your doorman give me a call and we’ll get you back in, no charge. Now, I’m going to have my son carry Fluffy home for you. You have a good day.”

(The doctor is referring to our tech who isn’t actually his son, but that’s the code we use to let the front desk know the resident is not paying us directly and to just smile and say goodbye rather than following the normal checkout process. As soon as she and the tech are out of the building I turn to the doctor.)

Me: “So, we’re charging an exam and what else?”

Doctor: “Nothing.”

Me: “So, just the exam?”

Doctor: “No, Fluffy isn’t real.”

Me: “What?!”

Doctor: “He’s a stuffed toy; he’s just been laying around all day for weeks now. So, I told her we were going to try an experimental treatment, and if it works, that’s great, and if not, she can bring him in to be put to sleep later. Then, I drew up some air from an empty vial and injected it. She said he already looks perkier. Poor thing; she is really far gone.”

(Tech returned almost an hour later. The woman wasn’t from the facility next door, or even the one on the other side of them. She was from the one almost all the way down the block, and they had to check into all of them because she couldn’t recall which apartment building she lived in.

To their staff’s credit, they thought she had gone to get lunch with her daughter and her daughter thought her mom was taking a nap after an exhausting morning of moving in. Nobody knew Fluffy had been feeling bad, or that he was capable of feeling bad.  

The experimental treatment worked great for a month, and then Fluffy relapsed and had to come in for another treatment. We gave him his shot once a month for three years, and then one day he just stopped coming in.

Six months later, the daughter brought him in; her mom had become too ill to take Fluffy for his shots so she had just taken him out of the building for a bit and then come back and told her mom he’d had his shot, and now her mom said she couldn’t take care of Fluffy anymore so could we find him a new home. We found him a nice place in the doctor’s office; he’s our supervisor.)

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Time To Throw Around Some Shade

, , , , , | Right | March 22, 2020

(I’m a customer in a popular chain drug store looking at their makeup section when [Old Lady #1] and [Old Lady #2] come looking for lipstick.)

Old Lady #1: “Do they have our lipstick shade here?”

Old Lady #2: “Oh, I hope they do.”

(They look in silence for about two minutes and [Old Lady #1] turns to me.)

Old Lady #1: “Excuse me, young lady? Could you help us find [Lipstick Brand] in [shade]?”

Me: “Oh, of course!”

(I scan the lipsticks and find the shade they need.)

Me: “Here it is! This is the one you needed, right?”

Old Lady #2: “No, no! That’s not it! We got it in a different packaging!”

(One of the employees walks up.)

Employee: “Excuse me, ladies, can I help you find anything?”

(Seeing as they’ve been helped, I slither away to another aisle. I come back when I hear some slight yelling.)

Old Lady #1: “No, you dumb twit! I told you that’s not the package our lipstick comes in!”

Employee: “As I’ve told you, multiple times, this is a new packaging but it’s the exact lipstick you’re looking for.”

Old Lady #2: “What don’t you understand? This is not our lipstick!”

(The employee, visibly irritated, pulls the lipstick out of the package and puts a swatch on her hand.)

Employee: “You see, ladies? This is the exact lipstick shade you needed. Is it not?”

(The two old ladies look rather embarrassed, take the lipstick, and scuttle off.)

Me: “Well, that was a handful.”

Employee: “Tell me about it.”

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They Schedule It Every Sundae

, , , , , , , | Right | March 21, 2020

(I am the cashier at a popular ice cream fast food chain. This occurs as I am serving a couple who are approximately in their late sixties.)

Me: “Hello! What can I get for you today?”

Customer #1: “Hello, I’ll take a chocolate sundae and whatever she’s having.”

Customer #2: “I’ll just have an ice cream cone, please. Thank you for paying; that’s quite sweet of you.”

Customer #1: “Eh, from this I’m just hoping to get lucky!”

(The customers chuckled a bit as I was struggling to contain my laughter!)

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There’s No Age Limit On An Adrenaline Rush

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 19, 2020

When I was fourteen, my Ma, Sis, and stepdad Jim — nicknamed Jimbo Bimbo Spam by my sis and I — and he had a cool little powerboat. 

One evening my ma, sis, and I were at the lake with the boat. There was a park near the spot where you back your boat into the water. While I waited for my turn, I happened to talk to a lovely couple. 

I’ve always remembered these things about them: they were in their mid-seventies, had been together for fifty years, and they had never officially married. 

After a bit of talking, my ma and sis popped up and joined in the conversation. My ma offered a ride and they gave each other a look, talking in their own little way without words but looks. They took the offer. My ma took the woman out for a bit and when they came back I got my turn with the gentleman and we took off.

We were going for a bit and this fellow was enjoying it with a smile and the wind whipping through his hair. This boat was good with catching the waves from other boats if you could whip the boat itself just right. I went in with a bit too much juice and caught a wave, the boat tilting a good bit.

I looked over in time to see this man in his seventies fall into the water. Now, I almost panic, hoping this man can swim and expecting a good earful if he can. I got the boat turned back around and saw his head pop up. When I came up to him, I reached out and helped him up. He got onto his seat and, after wiping at his face, he waved his hands and said with excitement in his voice, “That was crazy, mannnnnn!” and I swear I saw the youth in his face.

We started laughing for a good few minutes. We rode only for a little bit longer with him being soaked. I pulled up and we got off the boat, and before he left, the man gave me a good hug for a few seconds, along with back pats and a thanks for a good time. My ma and sis got on for a turn and I watched them ride off.

At one point, I saw the cutest thing: the man with his arm over the woman’s shoulder and her arm around his waist. She pulled him tight against herself, even with him soaked. It was a moment of genuine love.

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Cool Old Ladies Can Be A Retail Worker’s Best Friend

, , , , , | Right | March 17, 2020

(I am ringing up a woman and her teenage daughter.)

Guest: “I just don’t understand why you can’t give me a discount.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the sale ended yesterday.”

Guest: “I just think you’re being a b****.”

(She leaves. The elderly woman behind her has been eyeing her with disgust.)

Elderly Guest: *with a thick Georgia accent* “Now, don’t you pay her no mind. People like her don’t know how to be classy.”

Me: “I suppose so.”

(As I’m ringing her up, I notice a tattoo on her right hand in the shape of a diamond. She also has a large diamond wedding ring on her left hand.)

Me: “I love your tattoo!”

Guest: “Oh, why, thank you! Was quite a scandal when I got it, but I don’t really care. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, you know. Make sure your boyfriend buys you a nice one, now!”

(She leaves. Absolutely made my day.)

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