This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

When I worked at a pizza store, we got this new worker right out of high school. This kid was a moron. Other than trying to annoy my coworkers and me to the point of at least three different altercations, this guy was just… dumb.

But the straw that broke the camel’s back was after he got transferred to another store.

This takes place during the cusp of the global health crisis becoming an actual issue that people were taking seriously.

This business being a franchise, the managers have a group chat to keep up to date on each other’s stores.

[New Worker] calls out sick… with a fever of 105F. Okay, you are having brain issues at that temperature, but the manager (of the other store) is willing to give him a pass.

But then, [New Worker] wanders into my store. We had heard about “105 Kid”, and to see him walk in is a surprise.

The kid genuinely thought he could just hang out with his old coworkers for the day. The kid can’t understand why everyone in the store is yelling at him to go home and stay away.

He’s sick. Go HOME!

Oh, but he just lied because he doesn’t want to work at the other store. He’s bored.

Well, I hope he can fix his boredom while being unemployed.

I work at an animal clinic that doubles as a kennel. We board dogs and cats. A younger woman whose dogs have recently been boarded walks in, absolutely SCREAMING.

Customer: “My dog started having diarrhea when they got home! You’ve poisoned them!”

Me: “Ma’am, sometimes this can happen when a dog is left in a place they don’t recognize. It’s called stress diarrhea.”

Customer: “That’s impossible! My dogs are immune to diarrhea!”

No one is up front except her and me, so I reply:

Me: “Oh, really? Your dogs are immune to diarrhea? That’s incredible. Perhaps you should breed them!”

She then threw a slew of profanities in my direction and then stormed out the door. I haven’t seen her since.

I was looking for a snack at a popular theme park. I am very allergic to cocoa butter, which means all chocolate products (both dark and white). One of the snack shops had a peanut butter cupcake that looked wonderful, and as it’s often difficult to find peanut butter treats without chocolate, I was interested.

Me: “Does that cupcake contain chocolate?”

Server: “No.”

Me: “Thank you. I was just checking, as I have an allergy.”

“Allergy” is often a keyword; as soon as they hear “the A word,” they immediately go for the ingredients manual.

Server: “Nope, no chocolate, ma’am.”

Me: “And there’s no white chocolate in the frosting? I know they sometimes do that for texture.”

Server: *In an annoyed tone* “NO, ma’am. As I said, there’s no chocolate.”

Me: “Okay, sorry for bothering you. I just need to make sure.”

Server: *Sighs* “If you would feel better, I’ll get the manual so you can see for yourself. Just yellow cake, eggs, flour, oil, peanut butter, and jelly.”

Me: “Oh, okay, great! I’ll take one, please. Again, sorry to bother you.”

Server: “Oh, and there’s also an Oreo cookie in the center.”

I was with a group of friends going on a skiing trip in Austria. Most of the group had skied before, but [Girl] and I were first-timers, and we signed up for early morning lessons. We used a ski lift to get to the place on the mountains where lessons took place, and then we came down and joined the group for lunch.

Unfortunately, during one lesson, [Girl] fell badly and tore her knee so that she could not stand. Emergency services were called, and they decided to move her back down the mountain on the ski lift. I went down on the lift to tell the others. They put her in a body bag to keep her warm and then, to keep her knee immobilised, they laid her down across the bench, strapped her on, and then took the next bench behind her.

As she was coming down, I reached the bottom and joined my friends.

Friend: “Where’s [Girl]?”

I pointed to the body bag that could now be seen coming down on the lift with the medical team behind it.

Me: “She’s there.”

Friend: “Oh, my God! [Girl]! Oh, my God!”

I suddenly realised that all they could see was an inert body bag being transported down the mountain and assumed the worst. At this point, I panicked slightly and, rather than just telling them she had only hurt her leg, I turned round and shouted:

Me: “It’s okay! It’s okay! They haven’t zipped it up!”

When I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, and we found that eating certain foods exacerbated the symptoms, the worst ones being gluten and dairy.

I was at a cafe with my dad and my uncle, who I don’t get to see very often. The menu labeled the gluten-free foods, which was good, but didn’t indicate dairy-free, which meant I had to ask the waitress when she came to take our order.

Me: “Is the orange and almond cake dairy-free?”

Waitress: “I’ll have to go check.”

We waited for a few moments and she came back.

Waitress: “I asked the cook, and they said the orange and almond cake is dairy-free.”

Me: “Awesome, I’ll get a slice of that.”

Waitress: “Would you like ice cream with that?”