(My insurance company has decided to stop covering one of my prescriptions for unknown reasons. I get a notice from them on a Friday afternoon, as well as an email from the pharmacy, that the prescription in question is due for a refill. Since it’s Friday at three pm, I figure I’ll just pay the cash price for it this month and call my insurance company next week. I click the link in the email to refill and go back to work. An hour later, I get a text update saying the prescription has been put on hold. I call my pharmacy.)

Me: “Hi. My name is [My Name], and I’m calling regarding my prescription I just sent for a refill.”

Rep #1: “Sure, I’ll look at that… Oh, it looks like your insurance won’t cover it for whatever reason.”

Me: “I know. I’ll just pay the cash price this month. How much will it be?”

Rep #1: *timidly* “[Amount].”

Me: “Okay, that’s fine. When can I pick it up?”

Rep #1: “You’re going to pay it?”

Me: “Well, sure. What other option do I have?”

Rep #1: “Oh… okay! I’ll finish it up for you. It should be ready in thirty minutes.”

Me: “Great. Thanks!”

(After I get out of work, I stop by the pharmacy. There’s a different rep behind the counter.)

Me: “Hi, I’m [My Name], and I believe there’s one prescription ready for me.”

Rep #2: “Okay, I see that here. Hmm… looks like there’s a copay.”

Me: “I know.”

Rep #2: “There shouldn’t be.”

Me: “They already told me. [Amount], right?”

Rep #2: “Let me look into this.”

Me: “It’s okay. My insurance company screwed up. I’ll call them on Monday.”

Rep #2: “You shouldn’t have to pay for this. There’s never a copay on [prescription].”

Me: *slightly irritated that he just announced what I’m taking to the entire pharmacy* “It’s fine. Really. Can I just pay?”

Rep #2: “I can give you a discount.”

Me: “The copay’s not that bad. It’s been a long day and I’d really like to pay and go home.”

Rep #2: “If you’re sure… Okay, I’ll put it in. I’ll even throw on that discount. If you want to have a seat, I’ll holler when it’s ready.”

Me: “Uh… the lady I talked to earlier said it’d be ready by now.”

Rep #2: “No, we were waiting until you stopped in. It’ll only be about twenty minutes.”

(I’m extremely annoyed now, but I’m trying my best not to show it.)

Me: “Look, I’ll just come back tomorrow. No problem.”

Rep #2: “It’s only twenty minutes. Maybe less!”

(I wave and walk out. I drive back over the next day, where there is yet another rep behind the counter.)

Me: “Hi, I’m [My Name], and there should be one ready for me.”

Rep #3: “Yes, it’s filled and ready to go. One minute while I grab it!”

(He grabs it and starts ringing me out.)

Rep #3: “Oh, um… I need to get the pharmacist. Something isn’t correct.”

Me: “If it’s the copay, I know about it! It’s not an issue!”

([Rep #3] disappears into the back. I throw up my hands in frustration. He comes back out a few minutes later.)

Rep #3: “There’s a copay on this. There shouldn’t be. We can look into this for you.”

Me: “LISTEN TO ME. You are the third person that I’ve explained this to. I know about the copay. It’s fine. My insurance company screwed up. All I want to do is pay and go home!”

Rep #3: “I apologize for the issue. I don’t know what happened with your insurance… Hold on. Did you say you are going to pay?!”

Me: *through gritted teeth* “YES.”

Rep #3: “Oh. OH! Yes, I’d be happy to process that for you! No problem!”

(I can only imagine how many temper tantrums people have thrown over copays to prompt that reaction from THREE pharmacy techs!)

(I am fresh out of massage school, working for a spa chain. Before I start, they give me a list of modalities, so I can put check marks next to which ones I do — for example, prenatal massage, hot stone therapy — but since I am fresh out of school I don’t do much. I check boxes for Swedish, deep-tissue massage, hands and feet, and that’s about it. This chart is for front desk eyes only, at some point they accidentally leave it on the counter and my client sees it. I take my client back and ask what he’d like to work on.)

Client: “Do you specialize in anything other than hands and feet?”

Me: “I actually do not specialize in hands and feet. We can fit the massage to whatever is bothering you, or we could do a full body.”

Client: “It says up front that you specialize in hands and feet.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m not sure where it says that, but I do not specialize in hands and feet. Are there any areas that are sore or bothering you?”

Client: *getting flustered* “Well, it says all you do is hands and feet, and I’m just trying to ask what else you specialize in!”

Me: “I don’t really have an area of the body that I specialize in. I can work on anything that you want.”

Client: *getting madder* “Okay. So. Hands and feet? You don’t specialize in anything else?!”

Me: *getting nervous* “We could do whatever you like. Or a full body. Would you like a full body?”

Client: “No! I guess I’ll take half the time on my feet and the other half on my hands.”

Me: *defeated* “Okay. I’ll step out of the room to wash my hands. You can put your clothes on the chair and get under the covers, face down.”

(During the foot massage, he mentioned twice that he could barely feel anything, and both times I told him that was as deep as I could go and offered to work on a different area. Both times he said no. Then, after the massage, he told the front desk that it was the “weirdest” massage he’d ever had. When they relayed the message I told them that it was the weirdest massage I’d ever given! This is when I discovered they’d left the paper out where I had put a check by “hands and feet.”)

(My husband and I are in the bedroom. He’s very tired but he’s playing with our eleven-month-old baby on our bed so I can fold and put away the laundry. As I pull a shirt out of the basket, I see a dollar bill which I gleefully wave around.)

Me: “I just got paid!”

Husband: *sleepily* “Good, now go buy yourself something nice.”

Me: *in a pretend pout* “You’re supposed to stick that into my bra when you say that!”

I volunteer with an animal rescue organization founded by my mentor and best friend. Today, we were at an adoption event hosted by a large pet supply store. Most adoptions need an application, vet references, and time. However, my mentor told me that sometimes you just know it’s going to work out.

We had a young black dog with a white chest stripe. Like most black dogs, unfortunately, there hadn’t been much interest in him. A few applications had been submitted, but the people seemed to be inconvenienced so that they couldn’t get another dog. It’s hard to explain — you had to be there. One lady said, “Call me if you find another dog first.” We had fun shredding her paperwork.

About an hour before closing, a young African American couple came in and fell in love with him. They told us they were newlyweds and decided their wedding gift to each other was to adopt a dog. Our pup loved them, and my mentor took their application and let them go home with a happy, loved dog. We watched as a store employee took them around to buy supplies. They bought a harness and the employee instructed them how to make sure it wasn’t too tight or loose. They were so loving and attentive and let the pup pick out some toys and treats. As they were leaving, they stopped and thanked us again. The husband hugged the pup and happily announced how much their “new son” looked like them! We all had a good laugh and wished them well.

“And that,” my mentor said, “is how you know.”

This story is part of our Animal Shelter Roundup!

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(I am the phone operator for the service department of an auto dealership. I receive incoming calls to the service department, and also send out calls for scheduled maintenance reminders, completed service, and recall notifications. I receive a call from a customer.)

Me: “Service Department. This is [My Name]; can I help you?”

Caller: “I received a call about a recall open on my car; I would like to find out what the recall is.”

Me: “I would be happy to find that out. Just a moment while I access your account.” *pulls it up on computer* “Okay, ma’am, I’m showing the open recall is for the evaporative canister, which is part of the emissions system.”

Caller: *screaming* “I swear to God, I hate your dealership! I had this taken care of! You need to take me off the f****** list!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but I must ask: did you get this done at a [My Automaker] dealership? Unless it is taken care of at a [My Automaker] dealership, the recall will remain open on your vehicle.”

Caller: *still screaming* “It doesn’t matter where I had the f****** job done; it was done, so take me off the list and stop calling me!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, this is a [My Automaker] national list. I do not have the authority to alter that list. If you—“

Caller: *still angry* “I know I’ve dealt with you before! You’re nothing but a rude, stupid, ignorant b****!”

Me: *banging phone until customer hangs up, breaking my keyboard in the process*

Service Advisor: *in the hallway with frightened look* “Are you okay?”

Me: “No.” *explains what happened*

Service Advisor: *puts a note in the system to refuse service to this person in the future*

(If this person got the canister replaced with an original part, that part must still be replaced with the redesigned part to comply with the recall. If she does have the original part replaced with the recall part at another shop, she can get reimbursed, but only by contacting [My Automaker]; otherwise, she’s out her own money. And if this part isn’t replaced with the redesigned part, she will likely fail the Illinois automotive emissions tests, and be forced to get the care repaired anyway. Knowing this makes me feel a bit better.)