(I work in a hospital.)

Me: “What can I get you to drink, sir?”

Patient: “Coffee.”

Me: “Well, it looks like you’re on a cardiac diet, which means you can’t have caffeine.”

Patient: “You asked me what I wanted, and I want coffee.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t give it to you.”

Patient: “This is ridiculous! I’ve been drinking coffee every morning for the last sixty years. I want my coffee!”

Me: “Sir. You are on a cardiac diet. That means that you can’t have caffeine, extra sodium, or fat. It could make your condition worse.”

Patient: *tries to pull a fast one* “My doctor told me I could have it.”

Me: “Well, your doctor needs to put it into our computer; otherwise, I could lose my job.”

Patient: “MY DOCTOR SAID I COULD HAVE IT!”

Me: “Sir, I know you’re lying. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be on this diet.”

Patient: “GIVE ME THE F***ING COFFEE!”

Me: *loses patience* “DO YOU WANT THE COFFEE OR DO YOU WANT TO LIVE?!”

Patient: *sheepishly* “Can I have apple juice?”

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Yeah, I need you guys to fill a prescription for me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we are a hospital pharmacy. We only prepare medications for patients of the hospital.”

Caller: “Well, that’s simply discrimination. You ought to fill for everyone.”

Me: “You see, sir, we’re very different from a retail store. We issue individual, bubble-packed pills in one-day supplies to the nurses to give to their patients. We don’t have bottles, and we don’t do 30-day supplies like a store does. We don’t have a cash register, or any kind of means to ring up customers. We’re also located in an employees-only area of the hospital, near the morgue. You can’t really get to us that easily.”

Caller: “Well, those are all excuses.” *hangs up*

This story is part of the Customers-Who-Will-Die-On-Their-Hill-themed roundup!

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Patient: “I want to know why I didn’t get a single room! I asked for a single room. I demand a single room!”

Me: “I’m sorry; every single room is currently occupied by patients who must be isolated.”

Patient: “I don’t get it. You have single rooms; why do you give those to other patients?”

Me: “The patients in our single rooms MUST have a single room for medical reasons. They have contagious illnesses.”

(I try to leave the room, but the patient jumps in front of the door.)

Patient: “You’re not leaving until you give me a single room! What do I have to do to get a single room?!”

Me: “This is ridiculous. The patients in those single rooms are contagious. We can’t put them in double rooms.”

Patient: *screaming* “What do I have to do to get a f****** single room?”

Me: “…catch tuberculosis?”

(I witnessed this on the hospital floor where I work. A patient’s daughter comes out of a hospital room and stands in the hallway, staring around looking lost.)

Nurse’s aide: “Can I help you?”

Daughter: “Yeah… can I have a stapler?”

(The nurse’s aide walks about two steps away to get a stapler and then thinks better of this request.)

Nurse’s aide: “Why do you want a stapler?”

Daughter: “My dad’s IV tubing is getting in his way. I thought it would be better if we stapled it to his arm.”

Nurse’s aide: “Um, I think tape would work better for that.”

Daughter: “You guys have tape here?”

Nurse’s aide: “Yeah, I have some here in my pocket.”

(The aide walks into the room to secure the IV tubing before any more of his genius children try to help.)

Daughter: *muttering* “I still think a stapler is a better idea…”

(In our hospital sleep lab, we have a bunch of rooms with beds for people to sleep on. Every room is monitored and recorded with a video camera so we can watch the patients while they’re sleeping. One day, my daughter’s math teacher came in…)

Me: “Hey, Mr. [Teacher]! Let me hook you up and you can get to sleep.”

Teacher: “All right.”

(I hook him up and tell him to try to sleep as quickly as he can. We don’t give our patients sleep medication because that could interfere with their normal sleep habits. As I return to the control room, I hear hysterical laughter.)

Me: “What’s going on?”

Coworker: “Who did you say that guy was?”

Me: “Oh! My daughter’s math teacher at her high school.”

(Everyone laughs harder.)

Me: “What is going on?”

(My coworker points to the screen showing Mr. [Teacher]’s room. He’s masturbating.)

Me: *over the intercom* “MR. [Teacher], PLEASE! You are being recorded!”

Teacher: “But you said to go to sleep as fast as I can!”

Me: “That’s not appropriate!”

Teacher: “Well, fine! I guess a man can’t get any privacy when he’s trying to sleep! YOU’RE inappropriate! Why the h*** were you watching me?!” *gets dressed and storms out of the hospital*