My parents, aunt, and I go to have lunch at a sit-down restaurant where we’ve eaten several times before, though it has come under new management since the last time we’ve eaten there.

The place is busy, but not inordinately so for a Sunday, yet the food takes about 45 minutes to arrive. My aunt’s dish is wrong, so she tells them to take it back and make her what she ordered. She tells the rest of us to start eating since we’ve already waited so long for our food.

It takes another 45 minutes for her remade order to get served, and when it does arrive, it’s cold — it is a hot dish, not something that is supposed to be cold. She ends up eating it since she is so hungry and doesn’t trust that sending it back to be warmed will occur in a reasonable amount of time.

The waiter is rather late in coming to see if we are done and want the check. When we complain about how poor the service was, he says they’ll offer us free desserts as compensation. In what can only be some major collective gullibility, we all think that’s acceptable and couldn’t possibly go wrong. I guess we figure that there couldn’t be that much of a wait to get us already-made items like cake or ice cream.

True to form for the day, it takes about half an hour to get our comped desserts. The waiter is, again, rather slow in finally getting our check, and the desserts are on the bill at full price, so we have to get him to remove them which also takes an inordinate amount of time.

We were there for about three hours getting a set of meals that should have taken about an hour, tops. We never went back, even though it used to be one of our go-to places when we were in the area. I think it lasted for another few years before going out of business.

After getting mugged, which involved several kicks to the head, I came to in A&E a bit concussed but otherwise okay-ish.

I had been out for a few hours, and as a smoker, my nicotine levels were way down. I asked if I could use my vape as I’m allergic to the glue they use on most of the commercial patches. The answer was that an anti-allergenic patch would be provided.  I ask what specific brand it is, as I am severely allergic to some.

A tech turns up and tapes a patch to my arm, complaining that this brand is awful for staying on.

It is ninety seconds from patch to, “Oops, we stopped your heart as part of the massive response to what you told us not to do.”

I’m now allowed to vape in bed if I can keep it discreet, or I can go down to a vape spot if there’s a nurse or someone willing to go with me. Given that half the medical staff are smokers, I’m proving popular.

(I am thirteen, chilling in my room, doing my homework when I get a call from an unknown number.)

Caller: *in a gruff voice* “Hello, I am looking for Mr. [Person].”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong number.”

Caller: “No, this is right. We need to see you in the courthouse at [Location] on [date].”

Me: “Still, wrong number.”

Caller: “No, it is not. See you in the courthouse.” *click*

(I went to see where the number called me from. The call was from Texas. I live in Florida.)

On a snowy January day, I decided to go to a popular fast-casual restaurant known for their soup because that sounded like the perfect meal for the weather. There was no one else in line, and there were four employees working behind the counter. They all looked like they were stocking the food, with two on the bakery side and two on the cafe side.

As I stood at the register, about three feet from the closest employee, no one looked at me or spoke to me. After about thirty seconds had passed, the employee closest to me shouted for someone else to come “ring.” Still, no one told me it might be a minute or even looked at me.

The person the employee called for never came up to ring. At this point, I just wanted to see if anyone would actually acknowledge me, so I stayed quiet. They all went on working for about a minute or so when the employee closest to me who had shouted for help started complaining about the person she called for. She talked about how “lazy” and “stupid” he was because he couldn’t make it up to the front to the register.

I completely understand complaining about coworkers, but not in front of customers, especially when you haven’t even looked at them! Finally, I checked my phone and realized it had been more than three minutes since I first got to the register. Three minutes isn’t a long time, but it sure felt like it when all I wanted was them to scoop some soup into a bowl for me! By now, I wanted to make sure I was still corporeal, so I left the restaurant and got food at a different fast-casual chain. I had my food from the second restaurant in about a minute and was much happier with my meal.

(Our card reader does take chip cards, but it’s a very persnickety thing and if you do things in the wrong order, it will either ignore you completely or force you to start over.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, before you chip it, just confirm the amount—“

Customer: “I know how to do it!”

(She jams her card into the chip reader. It gives an angry buzzing noise.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, please take your card out of the chip reader and press the green circle on the screen.”

(Ignoring me, she jams the green circle on the keypad.)

Me: “Ma’am, you have to take your card out, press the circle on the screen, and put the card back in.”

Customer: “I know how to do it!”

(She jabs the circle on the screen but doesn’t take her card out. The reader proceeds to ignore her card in the slot and instructs her to swipe or chip her card.)

Customer: “Why does it say to swipe or chip?! It’s already in there!”

Me: “Ma’am, this machine is very persnickety. You need to take your card out and start over.”

Customer: “No, I don’t! I know how to use these things!”

(The card reader times out, meaning we now have to start over. I press the appropriate buttons.)

Me: “Take your card out and press the green circle on the screen. Then put your card back in.”

(The woman pulls her card out, then jams it back in before pressing the green circle. Since she didn’t press the green circle first, the machine buzzes at her.)

Customer: “Why is this so hard? I know how to use these things!”

Me: *annoyed* “Ma’am, please listen to the instructions–“

Customer: “This is bulls***! You do it, then!”

(She throws her card down on the counter. I sigh, turn the scanner toward me, and press the green button. It chimes happily and I put her card in. In seconds, her card is authorized and I take her card out and hand it to her.)

Me: “Now you just need to sign using the stylus and press the green circle on the screen again…”

(She jabs the screen viciously with her finger and rubs back and forth.)

Customer: “Why isn’t it working?!”

Store Manager: *who has been nearby, watching* “Because you can’t seem to follow directions. Use. The. Stylus. And press the green circle on the screen.”

(The woman finally grabs the stylus, scribbles incomprehensibly on the screen, and jams the stylus back into its holder. I sigh and pick up the stylus, pressing the green button. The persnickety machine is finally happy; it chimes again and the woman’s receipt prints up.)

Customer: “I know how to use these things!”

Me & Store Manager: *as she flounces out* “No… You clearly don’t.”