(I’m sitting on a bench. I rub my neck because it hurts. A stranger comes up behind me.)
Stranger: “Generation Look-Down. You know, you wouldn’t have so many problems if you stopped using those phones!”
(They start ranting about the evils of technology. I wordlessly hold up my crocheting.)
Stranger: *sputters* “I… I have an errand!” *runs off*
(I work at a small ecommerce business where each employee has a multitude of job duties. The phone rings, so I interrupt my current task and conversation with a coworker to answer. It is important to note I am female.)
Me: *speaking a little bit too quickly* “[Company]. How may I help you?”
Customer: “What is this?”
Me: *speaking more slowly* “This is [Company]. How may I help you?”
Customer: “Oh! I thought I was calling some housewife or something. Can I speak to [Coworker]?”
Me: *pauses* “Sure, let me transfer you to him.”
(I have a customer that comes in every single day, two minutes before we close, and orders a sixteen-ounce Americano with room for cream. He is never overly friendly, but not necessarily rude, so I don’t have a problem with him… Until one day, when I don’t give him enough room.)
Customer: “Do you not know what ‘room’ means?”
Me: “I’m sorry; you didn’t specify, so I just gave you as much room as most people.”
Customer: “Do you not know what ‘room’ means or do you think I’m stupid? Remake it, and put room in it.”
Me: “I’ll remake it, but next time you could ask a little nicer. It was an honest mistake.”
Customer: “Nice has nothing to do with it!”
Me: “Nice has everything to do with it!”
(It took me months to be able to make his drink again, because whenever he walked up to the counter I would refuse to make it and another barista would do it for me. He’s still incredibly rude, and if I have to make his Americano, I use decaf. I do not feel bad.)
I don’t cook very often; I only ever use the stove to make grilled cheese sandwiches. I have my own personal frying pans for this purpose. When I finish making the sandwich, I always leave the pan on the stove, but on the exact opposite burner, so that I can safely cool it down.
One day, my dad comes downstairs while I’m on the computer and starts pitching a fit at me. He scolds me for leaving a burner on. He’s burned his hand trying to get my pan away from it and turn it off. I’m confused; not only did I turn the burner off before I left — I’m not that stupid — but I always put the pan on the opposite end of the stove from the burner I used, just in case. I hate being blamed for things I didn’t do, so we end up getting into a pretty big shouting match over it.
Later on, he comes back down to apologize; the idiot who turned the burner on and left it unattended was my mom.
(I am a medical assistant and a large part of my day is getting patients into rooms and asking all of the questions before a doctor sees them. This scenario happens far too often:)
Me: “Okay, let’s go over your med list.”
Patient: “It’s all up to date.”
Me: “I know we do this at every visit, but we do it to make sure there aren’t duplicates or old meds that didn’t fall off.”
Patient: *with a heavy, dramatic sigh, dripping with disdainful attitude while slouching in their chair in protest* “I know it’s up to date, but okay.”
(I list one or two medications and they sigh dramatically and impatiently reply that, YES, it is one they’re taking. Some will use medical abbreviations such as PRN as if it’ll make me suddenly believe them. Then, this happens:)
Me: “[Medication]?”
Patient: *sitting up in full alert* “I’m not taking that anymore! Why is that on there?”
Me: “I couldn’t tell you, but I’ll discontinue it on your chart. When did you stop taking it?”
(The patient now usually gives some date preceding at least two appointments in our clinic, and usually because the patient decided to stop taking it or an outside provider advised the change, not something we would know unless they tell us. Usually, at this point the patient’s attention becomes devoted to correcting this grave error as if we are just randomly inserting old medications for grins and giggles. I’ve only ever had one acknowledge that his attitude should probably change regarding his contributions to the accuracy of his medical records.)
