(In Brazil, voting is mandatory by law. We may annul our votes, but we need to be physically present at our designated voting center or have a good reason not to be. Otherwise, we pay a fee and there might be some legal repercussions. In the last election weekend, I was in Canada for work, and only took the plane back Sunday. I go to justify missing the election.)

Me: “Hi. I need to justify missing the last election, as I was traveling. Here’s my documentation.”

Clerk: “This says you left your trip at 10:00 am. You still had plenty of time to come and vote. This justifies nothing.”

Me: “Perhaps you’re not aware, but it’s a twelve-hour flight from where I was, so I arrived in Brazil after the voting was already over.”

Clerk: *condescendingly* “Then you should have planned your little trip better, shouldn’t you?”

Me: “Can you just please put the documents through? I’m sure if…”

Clerk: “That’s not my problem! I’m not submitting a justification that doesn’t even cover the election times, just because you think you’re special and can break the law.”

Me: “Can I speak to a supervisor?”

(She calls one, mumbling about stupid, entitled people. I explain to the supervisor.)

Supervisor: “She’s very right. It’s not our job to fudge a justification so you can get off easy.”

Me: *now totally perplexed* “But it’s not fudging! I wasn’t in the country!”

Supervisor: “We’re not doing this. You’d better go now before I call security.”

(I left, very irritated and confused, and tried again at a different center a couple of days later. Believe it or not, I had almost the exact same conversation at the other center! My company decided to pay the fee for me, figuring it was better than to keep having me miss work to deal with it, or have any legal hassle later. I tried complaining up the government chain, but the sad thing is that these are all public servants, and for them to get even a write-up it needs to be an offense you could pretty much get arrested over, so nothing came of it.)

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This takes place in the 50s. My grandma and her first husband didn’t work out. They legally separated and lived their own lives, but didn’t get a divorce. She met my grandpa and had my aunt while she was still married to her first husband.

When she went to register the birth certificate, the clerk put her husband’s name as my aunt’s father. When she said that her husband wasn’t the father, my grandpa was, and asked to change the name on the certificate, the clerk refused. She said that my grandma should have just “kept her legs closed and stayed faithful to her husband.”

My grandpa had to legally adopt his own daughter. My grandma divorced her first husband and married my grandpa before they had the rest of their kids.

(I work for a municipality answering the information line. I pick up the phone and give the standard phone greeting for our city.)

Older Woman: “I need the phone number for [Garbage Pickup Company]!”

Me: “Well, that company doesn’t sound familiar; they don’t pick up garbage for us.”

Older Woman: “NO! I live in [Small Town about half an hour away] and they didn’t pick up my garbage! I need their phone number!”

Me: “Okay, we only look after garbage pickup in [City], but let me look up the number for you.” *starts typing*

Older Woman: “HELLO?”

Me: “Yes, I am just looking the number up. It’s 35—“

Older Woman: “NO! That’s long distance; I need a local number!”

Me: “Well, that is the only number listed for them.”

Older Woman: “THAT WON’T WORK! GIVE ME A LOCAL NUMBER!”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any other phone numbers for them.”

Older Woman: “Well, then, give me the number for your local garbage company. They will have it!”

Me: “I am not sure that our local company will have a phone number for a company an hour away…”

Older Woman: “I SAID GIVE ME THE LOCAL COMPANY!”

Me: “All right, but I am not sure if they will be able to help you.”

Older Woman: “GOOD! Now was that so hard?”

Me: “No?” *thinking* “YES!”

(I’m applying for council housing. I have waited three months for a reference number to sign into the account they’ve made for me. I call the office.)

Me: “Hi. I’m calling regarding my application on the [Local Area] website? I haven’t received my reference number; it’s been about three months.”

Employee #1: “Okay. What’s your name?”

Me: “[My Name].”

Employee #1: “And your address?”

Me: “[Address].”

Employee #1: “Are you currently a tenant with us?”

Me: “No, but I signed up and selected you on the drop-down list for who I’d like to deal with my application.”

Employee #1: “Sorry, you’ll have to go to your local council housing office.”

(I go there and explain all this to the employee.)

Employee #2: “Sorry, as you selected them to deal with your application, only they can handle it.”

(I go home and call back. The first two times, I am told they can’t help as I’m not a tenant, but on my third call, they agree to send me out a letter with the reference number. Lo and behold, when I get it, it doesn’t work. I call back several times and I’m told that I can’t speak to them unless I already live in one of their properties. In the time it’s taken to get to this point, I’ve had a baby. I go back to the local council office.)

Me: “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you, but—“ *explains the whole situation*

Employee #3: “I’m sorry, we can’t change your details here, but I can do a search and find your reference number. It’s [completely different, longer number].”

Me: “Thanks so much!”

(I go on the website. I now need a two-bedroom property because of the aforementioned baby. I can’t apply for one as I’m down as a single adult, so I need to get my details changed. I call the people dealing with my application again; it takes another three calls, spread over a week, before someone can update my details. During this week, I find that my current landlord has decided to evict me, probably to avoid doing necessary work — there’s black mould and I have had to stay with my mum to avoid potential risks to my baby for the past three months.)

Me: “Look. I know it’s not your fault, but this situation is absolutely untenable, and I’m being passed from pillar to post. If you can’t help me, can you transfer me to someone who can?”

Employee #4: “I can transfer you to lettings, but I doubt they can help.”

(I am transferred.)

Lettings Employee: “Sure, I can update those details!”

(It took three minutes. All in all, I had been running around trying to sort this out for six months when this could have been done in a matter of minutes!)

(I work for a small-town government municipality, and my department is generally the catch-all for residents who don’t know exactly who they want to talk to. There is a woman peeking into my office from the hallway, seemingly uncertain.)

Woman: “Who allows those magazines and flyers to be placed by the front door?”

Me: “As long as we deem the content to be appropriate and informative for the townspeople, we’re usually fine with individuals and agencies leaving such materials in that area.”

Woman: “I would like for you to remove the one about hunting; you really should not be promoting dead animals!”

(The pamphlets to which she refers were sent to us by the State Department of Energy and Environmental Protection and were not prominently displayed.)

Me: “Ma’am, we also process hunting and fishing licenses, so we’re kind of already doing that if you think about it, and no one has ever complained about those.”

Woman: *sarcastically* “Well, you also do marriage licenses, but I don’t see any flyers out there promoting marriage!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you would like to bring us some material supporting marriage, I would be more than happy to display it, as well.”

Woman: “Well, in that case, I’m heading down to the church to get some. I’ll be back!”

(We never saw her again.)