I just started a new job in a lab and picked up the work quickly. After a few months, I’m introduced to [Coworker], an old guy who has been with the company for decades. I’ve never had much to do with [Coworker]; he does whatever he has to do, away in the corner.

It turns out much of the work in the lab has changed dramatically in the last ten years, and [Coworker] just can’t keep up. They keep him on to work some of the older machines and that’s all he does. [Coworker] is taking a holiday and they ask me to try to learn how to do the basics of his work before he leaves.

It turns out that [Coworker] is a bitter old technophobe. Any discussion or any mention of anything new in the past twenty years is met with derision. He has nothing good to say about anyone or anything. Whenever his PC throws up an error message (by his doing), he complains and mocks “how great modern technology is.”

The training is painfully slow. I sit in silence for most of the week. Eventually, it is over and [Coworker] goes on holiday.

Boss: “If you need any help on [Coworker’s machine], let me know and we can go through it together.”

Me: “Oh, thanks. But I’m finished.”

Boss: “Already? Well, you can make a start on the work pending after your break.”

Me: “I did that, too. I was going to ask, is there much more for today? I can go back to my normal job, otherwise.”

Boss: *Pauses* “No, that was the work for the week.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Slow week, I guess.”

Boss: “Can you show me how you did it? Not that I don’t believe you.”

Me: “Err… sure.”

I show him how I used the machine, just like I was trained. He runs a few through tasks himself and gets the same results.

Boss: “Keep this between you and me, but this work normally takes a full week, and you did it in a few hours. But [Coworker] only has two more months at the company. “

Me: “Okay, I get it.”

[Coworker] came back, and the first thing he asked was if I’d broken the machine; the youth of today don’t listen so he would have to recheck everything. My boss stopped him there and let him know that I had done a great job and would be taking over full-time after he retired.

More negativity and derision.

Thankfully, a few months later, he retired, but not before one last act of pettiness: he took the books and notes for the old machines. Luckily, my notes were more than enough, and the machines were replaced a year later, anyway.

I need the medical history of my vaccinations for education reasons. For a variety of other reasons, I do not have access to this yellow card that already has my history, so I call my doctor’s office. 

Me: “Hi, my name is [My Name]. I’m a patient of [Doctor]. I’m just calling to ask if I could get a copy of my vaccination history.”

Receptionist #1: “Your what?”

Me: “Oh, uh, my medical history?”

Receptionist #1: “Why do you need that?”

Me: “I began going to university and I need that information to prove I’ve been vaccinated. Can you guys possibly email it, or do I have to come down?”

Receptionist #1: “Uhhh, hold on.”

Eight minutes later:

Receptionist #1: “Do you have a fax machine?”

Me: “Unfortunately, no.”

Receptionist #1: “Then you have to come down to the office. It should be a quick visit.”

I make the appointment and go to their office. My mom and I already visited within the last few weeks. It was the start of a new year and insurance updating was already done. My mom got a misprint of her insurance card and went through a big hassle of getting their office to understand that the number on her card was right but the doctor’s name was wrong. I’m under her insurance as a dependent. After this confusion and debacle, the insurance company didn’t want to give my mom more than one properly fixed card, so she gave me the misprint.

I get to the office and they give me the usual forms to fill out and then ask for the card. I’m dealing with the person who I KNOW my mom dealt with last time, because he’s the only male receptionist among the other three women.

Me: “Just a reminder, the info on that card is inaccurate. The doctor’s name is [Doctor] but the number is right.”

Receptionist #2: “Uh-huh.”

Approximately ten minutes later:

Receptionist #2: “Miss! Your information is wrong!”

Me: “Yes, I know. I told you that already. It’s [proper information].”

He only looks from me to the card without even glancing at the computer.

Receptionist #2: “No, I don’t think so. This is wrong. Do you have another card?”

Me: “No, I do not. Is it possible for you to just pull up my file or my mom’s?”

Receptionist #2: “No. That’ll be $45 for today’s visit.”

Me: “What? I’m here to ask for my own medical history. Why is it so high?”

Receptionist #2: “Because you don’t have insurance.”

I was literally in this office a few weeks ago.

Me: “You know what? Can you please just pull up my mom’s file? Her name is [Mom]. We have the same insurance information and hers is the correct one; it’s the same number.”

The receptionist makes a weird face at me and then flicks his hand in an indication for me to go sit down.

About fifteen minutes later:

Receptionist #2: “Okay, fine. Your copay is just $15 dollars.”

I pay it and then go sit down to wait. Twenty minutes pass. I’m finally called in and they insist I be weighed. Disclaimer, I’m fat, and my weight hasn’t been under 180 pounds for years, and this office uses the old fashioned scale that has a weight and a balance slidey thing. As I’m being weighed, the nurse, who I’ve also seen for years, starts off on 160 before slowly moving the slider higher. Every time she does, she goes, “Oh, wow,” over and over again until we get to my actual weight. She then refuses to measure my height, despite that being the usual thing I’ve done for the last fifteen-plus years coming to this office.

I’m finally taken to a room and told to wait for the doctor. Ten or fifteen minutes later, someone finally comes in.

Nurse: “So, you’re here today to get your vaccine shots?”

Me: “What? No. I’m here for my vaccination history.”

Nurse: “Huh? Why didn’t you just call us?”

Me: “I did. You guys told me that because I don’t have a fax machine that I had to come down.”

The nurse looks back and forth from her chart to me before eyeing me suspiciously.

Nurse: “And what do you need this information for?”

Me: “I got into university and they want my vaccine history.”

Nurse: “Oooookay… Wait here.”

She leaves and I wait another ten minutes or so before she returns.

Nurse: “Can you email us the form you have to fill out?”

Me: “Uhh, it’s not a proper form? I just log into the school’s website, and on my profile, it gives me a prompt to fill it out. I took pictures of all the questions on my phone here.”

I show her the pictures.

Nurse: “Hmm… Are you sure there’s no other form?”

Me: “Absolutely.”

This time, she doesn’t say anything before she leaves the room and then comes back a few minutes later.

Nurse: “Okay, can you email us these pictures?”

I get that done and wait another ten minutes. 

Nurse: “All right, so do you have the yellow card?”

Me: “No, I don’t have access to it.” 

Nurse: “What?!”

I’m surprised at the suddenly loud and very shocked tone of her voice. She’s been monotone and suspicious this whole time.

Me: “I don’t have access to it. Things are complicated at home and I don’t have access to it.”

Nurse: “Well, can’t you just… ask for it?”

Me: “No, I can’t. That’s why I’m here: because I already tried my other options.”

Nurse: “All right, well, that yellow card has your medical history on it that you need. Unless you have that card, we can’t let you see your file.”

Me: “You— Wait, what? I’m asking for my history, and you’re telling me you can’t give me my own history… unless I have my history.”

Nurse: “Yes, because you need that card.”

Me: “I. Don’t. Have. It. That’s why I’m here to ask you guys — my doctor’s office — for my history.”

Nurse: “We can’t do that.”

Me: “Well, if I can’t see it, then can you at least just tell me the information that I need? I sent you the pictures.”

Nurse: “Hmmm, no, I don’t think so. Well, thank you for visiting.”

She gestures for me to leave the room.

Me: “No. Absolutely not. You guys tried to make me pay a ridiculous amount for copay I’ve never paid before, you guys did make me pay for copay anyway, and you are trying to turn me away without helping me. I haven’t even seen the doctor yet. I’m not leaving until I see the doctor.”

The nurse suddenly looks panicked and tells me to wait longer before leaving. It’s about another ten or fifteen minutes before the doctor actually shows up. 

He basically sits in the office with me, holding my file, while I show and ask him the questions necessary and he tells me the dates. I’m still not allowed to see or hold my file. It comes to light there’s a vaccine shot that I actually need a renewal of, so that can also be done to get out of the way. He thanks me for coming into the office and tells me a nurse will help me with the vaccine.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long for her to show up, and it’s the same nurse I’ve been dealing with this whole time. The shot gets done and over with rather quickly, and then she just leaves the room. She hasn’t uttered a single word to me the whole time. I sit there a bit confused, waiting for further instructions. The nurse then pops her head through the doorway. 

Nurse: “Ummm, you can leave now, y’know.”

I was honestly a bit more surprised at the sudden attitude change than I was angry. When I got to the car, the surprised feeling was gone and I was definitely more than dissatisfied with the supposed “quick visit” that lasted from 9:30 am to 11:50 am.

One of the amenities that come with our gym’s higher membership tier is tanning. The only requirement to use that besides having that membership type is showing us your eye protection. I’ve gotten so used to people getting annoyed that they have to show it or saying that’s none of our business that I’ll usually preface my asking to see it with, “Whether you use it is up to you, but by law, we have to see that you have it.” Usually, that’s enough to calm people down because we could literally lose our jobs if someone goes blind and sues us, but some people don’t really care about either our jobs or their eyesight.

Member: “I’d like to tan, please.”

Me: “Sure thing!”

I look in the notes and see that he has been made aware in the past of the eye protection policy.

Me: “Awesome, and I just need to see your eye protection.”

Member: “I have it.”

Me: “Okay, I just need to see it.”

He begins digging in his bag. After the first thirty seconds, I start to feel bad for him, until I remember the note. He probably digs in his bag for two full minutes before giving up. Usually, at this point, if someone legitimately thought they had the eye protection, they’ll say something along the lines of, “That’s so weird. I swore I had it! Can I buy some disposable ones?” But he does not. He just zips up his bag and looks at me, which tells me he knew all along that he didn’t have them and didn’t want to admit it.

Me: “Want some [disposable eye protection]?”

Member: *Mutters* “Whatever.”

After giving him a pair and watching him head toward tanning, I turn to my manager on duty who’s been watching with amusement.

Me: “If he hadn’t lied to me, I’d have happily saved him the time and just given him the disposable ones!”

I am at the register at my thrift store, taking care of a long line, when a woman comes up. She puts three pamphlets on the counter and a small item from the store.

I pick up the first one to look for a price and am instead treated to a comic telling a horrifying story. I am utterly shocked and realise these are religious tracts, and that this woman is trying to hand them to me while I am working with a long line.

Me: *Deciding to be maliciously innocent* “Oh, ma’am, I’m deeply sorry for your experience! We never sell these pamphlets. I will throw these away for you immediately!”

Woman: “No, no, these are for you! To spread the love of our Lord and Savior!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the only thing I will do with these is throw them away. We do not allow soliciting in our store.”

Woman: *Angry* “No, you need to read them! They carry important messages about God’s love!”

Me: “Either take these with you, or they go in the trash.”

Woman: “Then I’ll just leave them here for someone else to be saved.”

She has just enough time to turn away, leaving without the one small item she had brought up as bait, when the sound of tearing paper makes her spin around. Making eye contact, I tear the tracts again and drop them in the garbage next to me.

Me: “I already told you that I will just throw them away.”

Manager: *From behind me, making me jump* “Oh, [My Name]! Did she donate bunny bedding?! Let me go get the shredder for you!”

The woman had stormed out by the time my manager returned. We got the line down, and I got quite a bit of pleasure shredding the torn pamphlets for the bunnies at our local animal shelter.

While I understand that many faiths encourage spreading the Word, these pamphlets were horrible and I did warn her what would happen.

I work for an Internet service provider assisting sales agents with order entry issues.

Me: “Thanks for calling ISP. This is [My Name]; how can I help?”

Representative: “Hi. I’m entering an order, but it’s not letting me waive their tech installation fee.”

Me: “What services are they ordering?”

Representative: “Only Internet.”

Me: “Ah, for the tech install to be waived, they need to purchase TV services as well as Internet. The fee, in this case, cannot be waived, so the customer will have to pay $49.99.”

Representative: “Is there someone I can talk to?”

Me: “You’re talking to someone right now.”

The representative hung up.