I own a flower shop and get several orders going to a funeral service. I call the funeral home to arrange for delivery, and someone I do not recognize answers the phone.

Me: “It’s [My Name] from [Flower Shop]. Can you let me know when and where you need the flowers delivered for [Deceased Man]?”

New Employee: “Yeah, umm, the family will be arriving at 9:00 am next Friday, so as close to that as possible after you open.”

Me: “Well, if the family is going to be there at 9:00, would it be better if I delivered the flowers the night before so you have time to set up before the family arrives?”

New Employee: “Oh, that’s a better idea, thanks.”

Me: “No problem. I’ll probably deliver them after I close at 5:00 on Thursday.”

New Employee: “Actually, could you deliver them before 4:00? That’s when [Regualar Employee] leaves for the day.”

Me: “I’ll see what I can do. If we have everything done by then, sure.”

New Employee: “Thanks, that would be great. Otherwise, I’ll have to deal with it.”

My father had a heart condition where he couldn’t move long distances without being winded, but you wouldn’t know that by asking him! He looked like an average Joe at first glance. Because of his condition, he had to use the mobility scooter when shopping. People often would give us nasty looks because, for all they knew, he looked like a perfectly able-bodied grown man using the scooter.

We were used to it, but there is a specific moment that I still remember and cringe about.

One day, we were at the grocery store doing our usual runs. We found ourselves struggling to find something on our list. There was a worker that seemed like they were actively trying to ignore us, stocking a shelf, so I went to ask for help.

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, could you—”

The worker didn’t even face me and pointed to her ear, indicating she was deaf.

Me: “Oh… Sorry.”

I explained the situation to my dad, and we decided to search for another employee to help. We passed by with the employee still ignoring us. My dad, being the man he is, said to her:

Dad: “You know, faking a disability hurts people like me in the long run. I don’t appreciate that.”

And he went on his way. 

I was already long gone searching for help, but from what my dad told me, even though she was supposedly deaf, she was facing AWAY from my dad and reacted to him saying that but quickly regained composure. 

Apparently, earlier he overheard her trash-talking with one of her coworkers, calling my dad a faker. She was very clearly able to communicate with hearing people. It disgusts me how people in my country think treating people with disabilities like that is okay.

Almost fifteen years ago, I lived in an apartment that could have been better managed by a pair of monkeys. Any type of maintenance request would take weeks and would have to be redone multiple times as it was either done incorrectly or they would state it was done but never came by to fix it in the first place.

I lived on the second (top) floor and started to hear some strange sounds in the crawl space in what would be an attic if there was one. I took a look in the maintenance hatch and came face to face with a duck!

There was a duck in my ceiling!

I contacted maintenance to let them know.

Me: “There must be a hole somewhere. A duck has taken up residence and is making a bunch of noise. Can you please fix the hole and remove the duck?”

They didn’t believe me. I sent over photos of the duck — and now a whole nest and a second duck. They finally opened a ticket.

I came home from work and it seemed that they had come over while I was gone. They had taken one of my boxes of personal belongings from the closet, dumped everything out on the bed, and left a note that they had taken the duck out from the “attic”.

I took a look in the hatch and there were two very angry ducks.

I called maintenance, a bit upset at this point.

Maintenance: “We removed the duck.”

Me: “Did you patch up whatever hole they’re coming in from? No? Because they’re back. Why did you use one of my personal boxes to remove a duck if you were not going to remove the way they were getting in?”

During this whole time of living with the ducks in my ceiling, I kind of got used to the noise, but when I would have friends over they would notice it. I would just say that they were my new neighbors upstairs and that I had called the front office multiple times about the noise.

My smarter friends would quickly figure out that I was on the top floor — so how did I have upstairs neighbors? My other friends, well… it was fun to clue them in on it later.

Maintenance never patched the hole.

A while later, I had itty-bitty little ducklings jumping off the roof onto the ground giving me a minor heart attack. All of them made it down safe, but it was a scary two or three hours or so while Mom and Dad tried to get them to come down, and I was disappointed in my fire department as they didn’t want to come out and help.

I moved out to another apartment in the same place to finish out my contract, with no moving fees due to the duck issue.

I was at the mailbox one day, and I saw a lady getting her mail from my old apartment.

Me: “How’s the duck issue going?”

She about blew up complaining about the noise and how maintenance used her good comforter to try to wrangle the ducks.

I don’t miss that place.

I decide to order some fast food online, and I walk down the street to pick it up at 7:00 pm on a weekend. When I arrive, the seating area is locked. I knock on the door but the employee inside ignores me. I try calling, but they don’t pick up, so I decide to try the drive-thru window.

Me: “Hi, there. I ordered for pick-up but your doors are locked?”

Employee: “Yeah, we’re short-staffed.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Well, can I get my food?”

Employee: “Sorry, but the drive-thru is for cars only.”

A car has pulled up behind me for the drive-thru.

Me: “Okay, so you’ll unlock the door so I can come inside and pick up the food there?

Employee: “No, we’re understaffed and can’t open the doors for customers.”

Me: “Then how am I going to get my food?”

Employee: “You can get your car and come through the drive-thru?”

Me: “I don’t have my car right now. I walked over here.”

Employee: “Oh, well, I can’t let you get your food through the drive-thru without a car.”

A second car has now pulled up.

Me: “Then how am I supposed to get the food I already paid for?”

Employee: “I don’t know.”

At this point, a third car has gotten in line, plus another person with a bicycle has walked up to the drive-thru where I am.

Person: “Hey, I’m here for a pick-up order but the doors are locked.”

Employee: “Yeah, I’ve already explained to this person—” *gestures to me* “—that you have to use the drive-thru.”

Person: “But I don’t have a car. Your sign says you’re open for pick-up and I’m here for pick-up. Now give me my food.”

The employee asks us to wait a minute and shuts the window. He returns a minute later.

Employee: “So, we can’t give food out to people walking up to the drive-thru window without a car, but you’re holding up the line, so we’ll do it this one time. Next time, you need to use a car for the drive-thru.”

I got my food and left. I sent a customer service survey about my experience but nothing came of it.

I understand it’s a safety issue not to have people walking up to the drive-thru window, but they really should have a plan in place for situations like that.

My job is very mentally taxing. I also have my own mental health issues so I try my best to balance, but I just want to help so I get caught up taking more responsibilities than I am actually able to.

A couple of weeks ago, I realized my mental health was in steep decline. I was ignoring the signs to push through, but anyone with mental health issues knows that you can only ignore the signs for so long. I tried to get ahead of a mental crash and talked to my two supervisors to tell them that I needed three days off (Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday), and as I had the weekend off after the days I requested, I figured that might be enough to get a good rest and reset. I did tell my supervisors why I needed the days (burnout, mental health) and they said they understood and would get back to me.

When they did:

Supervisors: “We can probably give you Wednesday and Thursday, but we can’t give you Friday.”

Me: “Could we do Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, instead, and I can work Friday?”

I’d have my weekend and that should be fine.

Supervisors: “We’ll get back to you.”

I got a text soon after to ask me to help cover other shifts. I obviously couldn’t, so I declined.

They got back to me the next day.

Supervisors: “We can get your shifts covered for Wednesday and Thursday, but not Tuesday, and you have to make up the hours.”

That was the last straw. I just broke. I was asking for a break because I was working too much because it was hard for me to say no. I even called them (they had me on speaker) in tears and explained even further why I needed the days. I had been going through trauma therapy and my mental health had been declining. I told them that I had spoken to my doctor and that my doctor said I was showing signs of burnout and recommended some days off. All they heard was “doctor”.

Supervisors: “We need a doctor’s note.”

Me: “Okay, fine. Good thing I have another appointment.”

I had to work that day just defeated because they couldn’t find anyone to cover my shifts.

I talked to my doctor and he said that he could tell I was in distress. He put me on two weeks of leave immediately.

The supervisors did not look pleased when I handed in my doctor’s note.

That was two weeks ago. I went back to the doctor and he extended my leave for AT LEAST another month — the straw broke the camel’s back and my mental health just went down the drain.

When I gave the supervisors my doctor’s note with four weeks on it, one of them wouldn’t even look at me, and the other just said, “Oh, doctor’s note. Thanks.”

So that’s how I asked for three days off to try to rest and reset and ended up with at least six weeks, with no confirmed return date.