I work for my local council. I have had a little old lady asking about pensioners’ discounts and exemptions for Council Tax. She keeps going on and on for a while and it seems like she just wants someone to talk to, so I let her tell me her life story.
At the end of the call:
Caller: “Thank you very much; you have been most helpful.”
Me: “Not a problem. If you need help with anything else, don’t hesitate to call us.”
Caller: “Okay, thanks, bye.”
Thinking she has put the phone down, I put my phone on speaker so I can quickly get some more scrap paper. Next moment, I hear a loud “Pffffft… Ahhh…” and realise the lady has just farted down the phone.
Caller: “Oops.” *Click*
In our produce section, we have a little shelf with fruit and vegetables that are still good but will expire in two or three days, so they’re much cheaper. An older lady and an older man are shopping in this section. The lady reaches for a package of grapes for $0.85, and the man bumps her with his cart.
Old Man: “Put them back! I want to buy them!”
She refuses, so he keeps bumping her with his cart. She picks up the grapes to put them in her cart. He SLAMS his cart into her body, almost knocking her over, and yells:
Old Man: “I want those grapes! You can’t take them!”
Her solution? She opened the package and threw the grapes at the man, screaming back at him. Cops were called and the customers were taken outside to talk with them.
There were grapes everywhere.
My dad is battling cancer and needs surgery. My sister and I are waiting for him in the recovery room, and of course, our nerves are already on edge.
As we are waiting for our dad to wake up, we hear the elderly little lady in the recovery suite next door, bless her heart, break out with this:
Elderly Lady: “Wow! Anesthesia is so great! I can see why people like anesthesia! You know, like Michael Jackson and them people!”
We tried so very hard not to crack up.
I work at the reception desk at a retirement center. We frequently receive calls from confused/sundowning elderly people trying to contact friends or family who live in the facility.
Me: *Answering the phone* “Good morning! This is [Facility] how may I help you?”
There is no answer, only the sound of shuffling and button pressing.
Me: *Louder* “Hello? Hello, this is [Facility]. May I help you?”
There was more button pressing, and then in the background, there was a sudden, scandalized cry of, “GRANDPA, NO!” before the call abruptly disconnected.
When my great-great-grandmother began to develop dementia, she started throwing things at people when they came through the door of her room. Sometimes it was a book, sometimes a water glass — whatever was handy. Nobody was quite sure what to do about this, except my grandmother — her granddaughter — who was then a slightly cocky seventeen-year-old.
Grandmother: “Grandma, you really shouldn’t throw things at people.”
Great-Great-Grandmother: “Why not?”
Grandmother: “Well… you could hurt someone!”
Great-Great-Grandmother: “Oh. Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll warn people before I throw things!”
For the rest of her life, that’s what she did. She would yell, “Look out, look out, coming through the door!” whenever she had a visitor.
Everyone knew that when they were coming to visit her, they should open the door and step in slightly, and then step back and use the door to shield themselves. Once the thing was thrown, they would be able to come in normally.
[Great-Great-Grandmother] never did stop throwing things, thanks to the dementia, but at least she didn’t want to hurt anyone.
