(In our shipping stations, we have four workstations logged in the whole day to accomplish various tasks. Up until this point, they all used a generic “Shipping” login; however, we’ve just been told that new compliance rules have been set up and we can no longer log in multiple times with a single account. Compliance with WHAT, exactly, is never listed. I draw the short straw to call up IT to get some more answers, and get bumped around until I talk to the System Admin.)

Me: “I understand we’re not going to be allowed to log in to all four systems at once starting Monday.”

System Admin: “Correct.”

Me: “I’m guessing that we’ll get separate logins, then?”

System Admin: “Nope.”

Me: “What do you mean, ‘nope,?”

System Admin: “We don’t have time to set all that up.”

Me: “Are you kidding me? I know for a fact it takes about 15 seconds to set up an account; you just hit, ‘duplicate,’ and enter a new name. It doesn’t even need to be complicated; we’ve got, ‘Tickets,’ ‘Scan Check,’ ‘Labels,’ and, ‘Shipping.’ Heck, we already have, ‘Shipping,’ so that’s only three.”

System Admin: “No, sorry. We just can’t do it.”

Me: “So, let me get this straight. Because you don’t want to spend literally a minute setting up these accounts, we now have to individually log into a computer to process and print the tickets, log out of that and into a second one to scan the items to make sure they’re correct, log out of that and into a third one if we need any manual or extra labels printed, then log out of that one and into a fourth one, just to finalize the orders? Every hour? And then repeat the process if there’s ever a mistake?”

System Admin: *smugly* “Well, I guess you’ll just have to not make many mistakes, will you? Now, I’ve got some actual work to get to, if you don’t have anything else. The only way I could do this would be to get a direct order from [Head of IT].”

(With that, he hung up on me. I turned to the shipping manager, who was working just over my shoulder, and relayed that last bit of info. Since he just happened to have an Operations meeting that week with the heads of every “backroom” department — including IT as well as the VP of Operations — you’re dang right we had our four unique workstation logins before Monday!)

(I have the stomach flu, and have spent the night throwing up, with diarrhea. Dehydrated and in pain, I go to the emergency room. I’m trying to do something to distract myself from the pain, so I turn on the TV in the room. The channel buttons don’t work, so it’s stuck on a staged reality show that features a lot of yelling and fighting. The nurse comes in while it’s on commercial.)

Nurse: “Okay, you are so dehydrated the doctor wants you on IV fluids for a while before we run more tests. Oh, what are you watching? Oh, this show is so trashy; I can’t believe it. Who would watch a trashy show like this. Do you like this?”

Me: “It’s what was on.”

Nurse: “Oh, wow. I can’t believe how trashy this is.”

(She stops and turns to watch the TV, ignoring me. It isn’t until the next commercial break that she finally turns and puts the IV in my arm, then leaves without attaching the saline. I start dry-heaving again, and she comes back in to give me a bucket to throw up in.)

Nurse: “Didn’t I attach the saline? I must have been distracted by that trashy TV show you like. What are they doing now?”

(She watches until the end of the episode, while I deal with waves of nausea, then finally comes back with the saline drip.)

Nurse: “Oh, my God, it’s another episode! Are they running a marathon? Who watches this trash?”

(She fiddles with the saline drip for a while, while watching the TV, and then stands and watches until the next commercial break. As soon as she leaves, I turn off the TV. She comes back in a moment later with another nurse.)

Nurse #2: “Why didn’t you start the anti-nausea medicine?”

Nurse: “I only just got the IV on her.”

(I was finally medicated, and as it kicked in, I drifted off into sleep. I was woken up by the TV being turned back on, and the nurse standing there watching it. She caught me watching and shook her head, muttering about the trashy show.)

(I am training as a waitress. My pregnant trainer and I have a 30-top, a 6-top, a 3-top, and a 2-top. Naturally, we’re both being spread thin, and we are quite exhausted. A middle-aged guy, who apparently just walked right past the hostess stand and ignored the giant sign that says, “Please wait to be seated,” stops as as we’re rushing to our tables.)

Customer: “Hi, I have a table for four and we want to sit on the patio.”

Trainer: “You’ll have to talk to the hostess about that.”

Customer: *rudely* “What, you can’t ask her for me?”

Trainer: “That’s not what I meant.”

Customer: “Never mind. I’ll ask her my f****** self.”

Trainer: *cheerfully* Okay!”

(Later, to me:)

Trainer: “Yeah, let me just drop everything I’m doing for all of my tables, despite me being in the weeds, and ask the hostess to seat you because you don’t feel like walking twenty feet.”

(I’m opening on concession. This is my first guest of the day: a 40-something mom with her two teenage daughters. This entire time, more and more guests are starting to show up and line up behind her.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: *literally the most dull, ho-hum tone I’ve ever heard* “Oh, I don’t know… like… I know I want popcorn and probably two sodas. I guess.”

Me: *trying to be perky and cheerful* “All right, let’s start with the popcorn. What size would you like?”

Customer: *deep, slow sigh* “I don’t care.”

(I flinch, because “I don’t care” is pretty much a sure sign at my theater that it’s going to be a needlessly LONG and tedious order.)

Me: “We have three sizes available: small, medium, and large. There’s about a dollar difference between the sizes, and large comes with a free refill. I could give you a large and some trays to split it up, if you think you’ll all want popcorn, since it’s the best value.”

Customer: “Probably not large. But I don’t know. Girls, what size should we get?”

Daughter #1: “Doesn’t matter to me.”

Daughter #2: “I’ll leave it up to you.”

Customer: *turning back to me* “I don’t care. Just get me a popcorn.”

Me: “Absolutely. I just need to know which size you’d like.”

Customer: *deep yawn* “But it doesn’t matter to me.”

Me: “I understand, ma’am. But we have three sizes, so I need to know which you’d like.”

Customer: “Can I see the sizes?”

Me: *gesturing to a display case* “Yup, absolutely. Right here we have the small, medium, and large.”

Customer: “I really, honestly don’t care.”

Me: “All right, how about a medium?”

Customer: *looks at the display for about 20 full seconds* “Eh… Small. I’ll save the extra dollar.”

Me: “All righty!”

(I prepare her small popcorn. She suddenly perks up slightly and shows me a rewards card that gets free upgrades and earns points.)

Customer: “Can I use this to earn points?”

Me: “Sure thing! You could also use it to upgrade to a medium popcorn for the same price as a small if you’d like.”

Customer: “I don’t care.”

(At this point, I’ve had enough of “I don’t care,” so I decide to move on, especially as there’s now a half-dozen people behind her.)

Me: “How about the drinks? What sizes do you think you’d want?”

Customer: *another deep sigh* “Look. I keep saying, ‘I don’t care.’ I just want drinks. This is far too slow. I just want drinks.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. But I need to know what to get for you.”

Daughter #1: “One will be a [Soda #1]!”

Me: “Great! What size?”

Daughter #1: “Oh, I don’t know.”

Customer: *interrupting* “So, with the rewards card I can get a medium popcorn for the small price?”

Me: “Yes. Would you like to change your order to a medium?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “All right, just let me know when you decide.”

Customer: “I probably won’t. I don’t really care.”

Daughter #1: “Mom, I was trying to figure out which size to get for my drink! You interrupted me! What size can I get?”

Customer: “Whatever you want.”

Daughter #1: “It doesn’t matter.”

(At this point I’m screaming inside, and there’s now more and more people lining up behind her.)

Me: “How about a medium? It’s still quite big, but it doesn’t cost the most.”

Daughter #1: “Okay!”

(I prepare the medium drink.)

Daughter #1: “I didn’t want ice.”

Me: *fighting to urge to throw the drink in her face as I pour it out to make another one without ice* “Sure thing.”

Daughter #2: “Can I get a small [Soda #2], please?”

(I’ll leaping with joy in my head, since she’s the only one who seems to know what she kind of wants. I make her drink, after making sure she wants ice.)

Me: “All right, ma’am. Anything else?”

Customer: “I don’t think so.”

Me: “Okay. Before I finalize the order, did you want to upgrade the small popcorn to the medium with your rewards card?”

Customer: “I. Don’t. Care.”

Me: “I’ll just do it. No reason not to. Okay?”

Customer: *under her breath* “This is the worst service I’ve ever received… Can’t even follow simple orders.”

(I finished up her order, now with almost 20 people behind her, all waiting angrily because this one order had taken so long. The final punch to the guts? Upon asking if she wanted to use the $20 in rewards she had on her card to cover the order? “I don’t care,” of course. Oh, and having to deal with the next few customers chewing me out for being “too slow with that last lady.”)

(I am the patient in this story. After many, many years of not receiving dental treatment, I finally get good dental insurance and make an appointment with a dentist. After the x-rays come back, I have in total 14 cavities and severe sensitivity in a majority of my teeth, and I need one root canal. After many visits, I am finally down to the root canal. So far, for a majority of my appointments, the dentist has been rough, short-tempered, and pissy. I am on a time limit to get all this work done, so I just live with it. Sadly, my final appointment does not go well.)

Dentist: *jerks my head* “Oh, s***.”

Me: “Everything okay?”

Dentist: “We are going to have to stop here and send you to someone else.”

Me: “Why?”

Dentist: “I broke a drill bit in one of your roots.”

Me: “I am fine with being sent to someone else, but my insurance ends tomorrow; this root canal needs to be done.”

Dentist: “Don’t worry; it will be done. We are sending you to our specialist. He is really good at root canals.”

Me: *skeptical* “Okay, as long as it gets done.”

(Next day:)

Specialist Dentist: “I don’t know how they managed to break a bit in your root, but the good news is that it broke on the torque, so it sealed the root. We can leave it in and just finish the root canal.”

Me: “Fine, let’s just get this done.”

(Another hour later, as they finish drilling the rest of the roots…)

Specialist Dentist: “We are finished. Schedule your next appointment for the filling and the crown.”

Me: “Um, no, you need to fill this and put the crown on. My insurance ends today; I do not have $1,600 to pay out-of-pocket for this.”

Specialist Dentist: “We can’t finish this today; you’re not scheduled for that.”

(After that, they made me leave. It has been four months, and two of the fillings they did have fallen off, the tooth with the unfinished root canal has cracked, and the broken fillings have exposed nerves. I managed to scrape together enough money to fix one of the fillings, but the other broken filling is out of the budget, and so is the unfinished root canal. It’s pretty bad when a filling falls off while eating pancakes.)