After a few years of wearing old and stretched-out bras, because it wasn’t worth it to me to go bra shopping when I kept changing sizes due to pregnancy and breastfeeding, I finally decide to go to a specialty shop and treat myself to a high-quality, supporting, and fitting piece.

I already tried this shop a year ago and was disappointed: I called ahead to check if they had nursing bras in specific sizes, was told, “Of course!”, and then showed up to find out that they actually didn’t have them. But I figured that nursing bras were kind of an exception and that they would be better when it came to regular bras.

For reference, in France, band sizes go 80, 85, 90, 95, 100, etc., and cup sizes go A, B, C, D, E, etc.

Me: “Hello, I’m here for a new bra. I just stopped breastfeeding and I don’t really know what size I am right now, so I was hoping you could measure me.”

Shopkeeper: “Well, what size are you wearing?”

Me: “Right now, a 90-G sports bra, but it’s wayyy too big. I got it while I was breastfeeding.”

Shopkeeper: “You are not a G-cup!”

Me: “Yes, I know; that’s why I need a new bra. I’ve been wearing old bras forever. I’ve had three kids and my breasts have really changed shape during pregnancy and breastfeeding. I’ve bought sports bras and nursing bras in all sizes, ranging from D to G, so I have no idea what size I am today.”

Shopkeeper: “You don’t know what size you are? Well, what are we going to do, then?”

Me: “Could you not just measure me? The last time I was correctly fitted was ten years ago, and I used to be a 85-F, but you can clearly see that I have lost a few cup sizes!”

I laugh awkwardly and gesture at my chest.

Shopkeeper: “There’s no way you’re an F-cup!”

Me: “Yes, that’s what I just said.”

Shopkeeper: *Searching through her stock* “F! No way! You’re, like, a C, at best!”

Me: “I know… So could we measure me, please?”

The shopkeeper gives me a few C bras to try on.

Shopkeeper: “See? You’re a C-cup. Not an F!”

Me: “Actually, there’s a bit of a bulge here. Can we try a D-cup? And I keep telling you that I know I’m not an F-cup anymore.”

I finally got out of there with a 90-D bra. I never got her to measure me; she didn’t even have a measuring tape. She kept muttering that there was no way I was an F-cup.

YES. I KNOW. THAT’S WHY I’M HERE.

I now exclusively shop at the specialty bra shop my mom uses, one she introduced me to as a teenager. It’s 500 km away and I can only go while visiting my parents, but the vendors there are so much more professional!

I also tried the mainstream stores, now that I am a “normal” cup size. So not worth it. The 20€ bras seemed to fit but had no support, leading to breast pain, and they stretched out after a few weeks. The “specialty” 90€ bras last a year and more.

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I’m running a couple of minutes late for my 7:00 am dentist appointment. I hate getting up early and am no good at it, but my commute is about an hour so it’s the only way to have no significant hours off from work.

As I head for the dentist’s front door, my phone starts ringing. I dig it out of my pocket and see that the display says, “Dentist,” but after two rings total, before I can answer, it stops.

It’s a bit odd, but I walk in and see nobody at the reception to announce my arrival, so I just take a seat.

After five or ten minutes, I see my regular dentist walk in. I figure they must have called me that he was late, considering that I had the earliest appointment possible.

After about twenty more minutes of waiting, a receptionist or assistant finally walks into the lobby and has some discussion with another patient. After they finish, I decide to ask her when the dentist will see me.

Assistant: “Oh, you were late and the dentist has just started treating the next patient.”

Me: “I see. Can I go in after this patient since I only need a checkup?”

Assistant: “No, we’re swamped for the morning and the current patient is in for a big treatment, it will take at least ninety minutes.”

Me: “Well, that’s inconvenient. But I was only two minutes late and there was nobody here to check me in.”

Assistant: “Oh, yes, we did call you.”

Me: “Yeah, my phone rang twice. Then it stopped and I walked in here.”

Assistant: “Ah, yes, there’s an issue with the phones here; sometimes they just randomly drop the call.”

Me: “Right, so I didn’t have any chance to answer your call, which you knew dropped because of a technical issue on your side. I couldn’t check in when I walked in right after, and in the nearly half-hour I was sitting here, nobody checked the lobby or tried another call.”

Assistant: “Correct. Would you like to reschedule for 4:00 pm today or some other day?”

And that’s how I learned to be fifteen minutes early for dentist appointments.

Coworker #1: *Under her breath* “Do I choose lazy or do I choose the tree?”

Coworker #2: “Excuse me?”

Coworker #1: “Well, I can’t remember if I printed the document or not, so I’m just now pondering: do I choose to be lazy and print again so that I don’t have to take a second trip to the printer or do I save a tree by checking the printer first?”

Coworker #2: “I would choose the tree.”

[Coworker #1] waits a moment and then goes to check the printer. She comes back empty-handed.

Coworker #1: *Muttering* “I should have chosen lazy.”

I have a compromised immune system, so I’ve been working from home and haven’t been going out much. My doctor has set up telehealth visits where we can video chat instead of going to the office.

A few days before my visit, I get a call from the office.

Me: “Hello?”

Receptionist #1: “Hi, this is [Receptionist #1] from [Doctor]’s office. Am I speaking with [My Name]?”

Me: “Yes, this is her.”

Receptionist #1: “Okay! I need to go over some basic information before your appointment. It’s just the check-in stuff we would normally do in person. Do you have about fifteen minutes for that?”

I glance at my schedule and see that I don’t have anything pressing coming up.

Me: “Sure.”

We go over my basic info — name, date of birth, weight, medications, etc. — and she verifies that I know how to log in to see the doctor. We hang up and I go back to work.

The next day, I get another call from their office. Unfortunately, I’m already in a call with a client, so I can’t answer. After I’m done, I listen to the voicemail.

Receptionist #2: “Hi, this is [Receptionist #2] from [Doctor]’s office calling for [My Name]. I just need to go over some basic information with you before your appointment. Please call us back at [phone number] prior to your visit. Thank you.”

Thinking this is about something new, I call back.

Receptionist #2: “[Doctor]’s office.”

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. I just received a call about some information before my visit?”

Receptionist #2: “Okay. Let me pull up your file here… Okay, we just need to do your basic check-in before your visit. Do you have about fifteen minutes?”

Me: *Confused* “I did that yesterday. Is there something new?”

Receptionist #2: “Hmm, I don’t see anything here. Are you sure it was with us?”

Me: “Yeah, same number, same appointment.”

Receptionist #2: “Well, I’m not sure what happened but nothing is charted here. Can we go over it to make sure?”

Me: “I have a few minutes, yeah.”

We go through everything again, and after the receptionist assures me it’s all been documented, we hang up. The following day I get ANOTHER call from the same office. I’m still working, so I let it go to voicemail again. It’s a third receptionist, wanting to verify all of my information yet again. I call back, annoyed.

Receptionist #3: “[Doctor]’s office.”

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. I received another call about my upcoming appointment.”

Receptionist #3: “I see. Well, it looks like we’ve been trying to reach you, I see. I can go over your info now if—”

Me: “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t your fault, but I’ve done this twice already. Is it not being logged or something?”

Receptionist #3: “I don’t see anything about us talking with you. Do you know who it was?”

Me: “Well, I have [Receptionists #2 & #3] in voicemails but I can’t remember the first one’s name.”

Receptionist #3: “Mmhmm, I called today. I see that [Receptionists #1 & #2] also reached out. Are you sure you spoke with us, not another office?”

Me: “Yes. I’m sure. How is this not being recorded? Can you ask the other receptionists?”

Receptionist #3: “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I can go over your information with you now.”

Me: *Sigh* “Fine.”

For a third time, I went through everything. I guess it finally stuck because that was the last call before the doctor’s visit. When I asked her if other people had the same problem, she said she didn’t know anything about it. Suddenly, I miss those in-person visits.

Related:
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 2
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist

Breakfast in our restaurant consists of either a breakfast buffet, with everything one could possibly want for breakfast including drinks, or an a la carte menu that usually ends up costing more.

An old cowboy type is sitting cross-armed and frowning at one of my tables.

Me: “Good morni—”

The customer speaks without looking at me.

Customer: “Coffee!”

Me: “Sure, I’ll be right back with—”

Customer: “Don’t run off; I’m ready to order! I want three eggs scrambled, bacon, ham, white toast, and an orange juice.”

Me: “Sure, I can have that right out for you; however, just so you are aware, our breakfast bar does have all of that for a little less. It has fresh fruit, yogurt, pastries and bread, all the breakfast meats, and a chef that will make you eggs and omelets to order.”

This must somehow offend him because, seething, he barks at me:

Customer: “I AM NOT WAITING IN LINE FOR EGGS! THAT IS JUST CORPORATE GREED!”

I did not see fit to correct him that profit margins on the a la carte items are far higher but instead happily rang in every item individually as he had requested, amounting to approximately $30 — about twelve dollars more than he would have paid had he walked the twenty feet to the buffet.

Related:
An Entitlement Buffet