My boss is in his sixties, he’s a workaholic, and he is the OG weeaboo with a love for all things Japanese. He has a part-business, part-pleasure trip scheduled before the illness outbreak becomes a thing for two weeks in early March.

As the situation evolves, his VP begs him not to go, but he continues to insist on going, even as events are cancelled and the VP warns him he will be self-quarantined for two weeks upon his return. It is also important to note that he is a university professor and they had already warned him explicitly of the same treatment.

He goes anyway and classes are officially cancelled in his absence while we are put on a work-at-home leave. This first text message comes as he is in customs at one of the opened international airports:

Boss: “Hi. I want to have a meeting tomorrow with [Intern #1] and [Intern #2]. Will they be in the office?

VP: “NO, [Boss]! You are quarantined for two weeks! Check your f****** email!”

The kicker is that he was told about five separate times that no one would be in the office for this exact reason.

I am standing in line at a drug store pharmacy waiting for the pharmacy tech to finish with another customer. A woman barges past the line up to the counter.

Customer: “You do free flu shots here, right?”

Tech: “I’m helping another customer at the moment, ma’am.”

Customer: “But flu shots are free here?”

Tech: *Forcing a smile* “Through your insurance, they are generally free, yes.”

Customer: “You have to have insurance?”

The tech looks at the first customer apologetically, but he nods for her to deal with the woman.

Tech: “You can still get one without insurance, ma’am, but it won’t be free.”

Customer: “You’re what’s wrong with this country. If I get sick, I’ll miss work!”

Tech: “I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

Customer: “Give me my flu shot!”

Tech: “I can see how much it would cost for you, if you would like, once I’m done with this customer.”

Customer: “You give it to everyone else free! Give me my flu shot!”

Tech: “I’m sorry, ma’am. We can’t do that.”

Customer: “You just don’t want to! You want me to get fired! You’re what’s wrong with this country!”

Tech: *Giving a tight smile* “If you say so, ma’am.”

Customer: “If I get sick, I’m coming and coughing on you!”

The customer storms off as suddenly as she came and we all look at each other in shock. The customer at the counter gives the tech a sympathetic smile.

Customer #2: “At least you’ll have had your flu shot!”

During the recent health crisis, the bakery I work at has actually gotten a lot more orders and we end up hiring two new guys. One of them is turning into a problem case, seemingly having no common sense about working with food.

I’m working with him one day, showing him how to bag/pack some of the more delicate pies and pastries we make. I leave to take a phone order for a few minutes. I come back and notice he’s licking his fingers every time before grabbing a fresh bag.

Me: “Hey, go wash your hands and stop licking your fingers.”

New Hire: “Well, I can’t open the bags right.”

Me: “Then prep them before you start. Don’t lick your fingers while you’re bagging again; it’s not sanitary.”

I toss the few bags he did while I took the order and go back to my work. Ten minutes later, I go back around to check on him and now he’s blowing hard into every bag to get it open before starting.

Me: “Are you kidding me? Don’t blow into the f****** bags!”

New Hire: *Looking genuinely confused* “Why? I’m not licking the bag.”

I tossed out another dozen bags and called over my boss. Even after a solid five- or ten-minute conversation trying to explain contamination and basic hygienic practices, nothing seemed to stick. My boss decided, in the end, to stick him on delivery duty for the next few weeks while we needed the help.

The strangest thing is that he wasn’t some conspiracy theorist who didn’t believe the outbreak was real; he just genuinely didn’t seem to get that blowing into a bag you’re going to pack with food or licking your fingers every minute while handling food was a bad idea.

I’m a high school senior at the time of this story. I’m in my school’s audition-only choir. One morning, I wake up with body aches, a cough, and a fever of 104°. The problem with this is that we have our winter concert that evening, and our director is strict about missing performances. You have to bring in a doctor’s note if you miss one; otherwise, he docks your grade.

I set up an appointment with my doctor for later in the morning, call into school sick, and leave a message on my director’s line. I tell him that I am sick, I’ll be going to the doctor in a couple of hours, and someone in my family will drop a doctor’s note off in the main office since I’m in no shape to come to school or sing that night. Please note that I’ve never missed a performance.

I crawl back into bed until my appointment. I wake up to a voicemail from my director.

Director: “[My Name], this is Mr. [Director]. Tonight is the winter concert, and it’s fifty percent of your semester grade. If you are actually sick, I want that doctor’s note today, hand-delivered by you. Otherwise, you fail for the semester.”

Again, I’ve never missed a performance, and I have been a student leader in my class for a couple of years, so I’m unsure why he’s doubting me. I decide that if he wants a note personally delivered, he’s going to get it.

I go to the doctor, where he diagnoses the flu and writes a note excusing me from “all school events” for the next week. My school is just a few minutes down the road. My timing is perfect; my normal class has just started when I shuffle in. I look just like you’d expect someone with a 104° fever to look.

My classmates stare at me, and our director stops conducting mid-song.

Director: “Uh… [My Name]? You look awful.”

I wave the note in the air.

Me: *At full volume* “I have the flu! Here is your stupid doctor’s note!”

This triggers a coughing spasm. I attempt to hand the note to him while covering my mouth with my other hand. He steps back.

Director: “Ah… no need. I believe you. Your parents could’ve dropped it in the office.”

Me: “No! You said in your voicemail that I had to hand-deliver the note today, or else I fail for the semester. You are going to take this note!”

Director: “I didn’t mean—”

Me: “That’s what you said to do, and you know I always do what I’m told. Take it.”

He groans, takes the note, drops it on his stand, and immediately heads for the hand sanitizer. I hear a few of my classmates laugh.

Me: “And I’m excused from tonight? I won’t fail?”

Director: “Correct. You won’t fail and you are excused. Now, please go home before you infect the whole class!”

Me: “Gladly!”

My friends waved at me as I shuffled back out. I did not fail, but he didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the year.

This story is part of our Music In Our Schools roundup!

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My mom has been putting off some shots of medication she needs due to the current health crisis because they can affect her immune system, but she finally decides to take them. My dad is helping administer them when he starts joking with her.

Dad: “Are you ready to get these shots like a big girl?”

Mom: “Depends. Do I get any candy afterward?”

Dad: “Yes, you can have one piece of candy.”

Mom: “But it’s two shots!”

Dad: “But it’s one dose.”

Mom: “But it’s two shots!”

Dad: “But it’s one dose!”

This goes back and forth for several minutes, and I’m sitting nearby in the room snickering to myself. Eventually, they agree to disagree and he gives her the first shot.

She handles it, but the second one hits a nerve or something and is very painful. He holds her hand through it and then goes to get her a piece of candy from the bowl on the coffee table.

He gets up to dispose of the needles, and my mom sneaks over to take a second piece of candy. He walks back in as she’s sitting back down. He jokingly glares at her and says:

Dad: “It was one dose!”

Mom: “But it was two shots!”

My mom then unwrapped both candies and put both in her mouth at the same time. My dad walked out muttering to himself while I absolutely lost it laughing.