(I work for a hospital in a small city. We sometimes hear odd slang for body parts or diseases, but usually we can decipher the patient’s meaning fairly quickly. This was not one of those times.)

Me: “Good morning Ms [Patient Name]. My name is [My Name], and I’m going to ask you a few questions.”

Patient: *slightly hostile stare*

(I began to take a short medical history on her. I wasn’t too worried about the hostility, lots of people don’t like coming to the hospital or having tests. Usually they cheer up after a few minutes when they understand that we’re going to be nice to them.)

Me: “Have you ever had cancer?”

Patient: “Yeah, I had rutabaga cancer.”

Me: “um… rutabaga cancer?”

Patient: “Yeah, that’s what I said; rutabaga cancer.”

Me: “So you had cancer of your”

*Patient cuts me off rudely*

Patient: “I SAID rutabaga cancer. What are you STUPID? Why is it that all you nurses and doctors can’t figure out how to get help for people when they have rutabaga cancer?”

Me: “Okay, I’m going to go put this information into our system and I’ll be back with you in a moment.”

(I’ve always been proud that I made it all the way back to our staff only work area before I collapsed into helpless laughter.)

(I’ve recently started a casual, semi-survival server for my friends and me on a popular block-based game. On this day, I’m alone on the server collecting supplies underground, a fairly decent ways away from our base, when one of my friends logs on. All of this takes place through the in-game chat function.)

Friend: “Hey! Don’t be alarmed, but I am going to do some house construction.”

Me: “That’s fine. What are you gonna do?”

Friend: “I’m going to replace walls and stuff to be more open and modern, and expand some things to make a living room and kitchen. :-)”

Me: “Ooh, I can’t wait to see it.”

(There’s radio silence in the chat for about 20 minutes when…)

Chat: “[Friend] tried to swim in lava.”

(About five minutes later…)

Chat: “[Friend] tried to swim in lava.”

(Five minutes later…)

Chat: “[Friend] burned to death.”

Me: “What on earth are you doing?!”

Friend: “You’ll see! :-)”

(She was digging out the area under our base and creating a natural-looking lava pool that was to then be covered in glass. She’s so lucky I decided to turn “keep inventory” on.)

(I work at an arts and crafts store that’s part of a national chain. I’m a cashier, not a manager or a supervisor. I’m walking through the store when a customer gets my attention.)

Customer: “Excuse me. These brushes are $24.99 this week, when last week they were only $12.49. Why is that?”

Me: “They must have been on sale last week. But it’s a regular sale, so they’ll be back on sale in a few weeks.”

Customer: “When, exactly?”

Me: “I’m not sure. It happens about once a month or so. But they don’t tell us when exactly it’s going to happen, sorry.”

Customer: “That’s a horrible business model.”

(I happened to agree, but all I could give her was a shrug. I don’t know why she thought complaining to a part-time, minimum-wage employee was going to convince the entire corporation to change its business model.)

(My outpatient clinic receives a few phone calls a week that follow this basic pattern, but this one was unusually bad.)

Me: This is the (Clinic Name) my name is (My Name), how can I help you?

Patient: I need to make an appointment to have (Name of Procedure) done.

Me: Okay, let me just get your information, and we’ll get you an appointment.

(I get her info, ask her Dr’s name and whether the Dr gave her an order to bring with her for the procedure or if she was going to call the Dr’s office and ask them to fax it to us.)

Patient: Yeah, just call (Dr’s Office) and tell them to send you one.

Me: I’m sorry ma’am, but the patient has to contact their own doctor.

Patient: *immediately hostile* Whatcha mean you can’t call my doctor?

Me: We don’t call doctors for orders ma’am.

Patient: Well, you can’t expect me to call for you. You’re the one who wants this order. Besides, every time I call my doctor I have to wait on the phone forever.

Me: Well yes ma’am, that’s why we can’t call doctors’ offices. We see more than 50 patients a day. There’s just no way to call that many offices.

Patient: That’s just ridiculous. Besides, my doctor told me he wasn’t giving me any prescriptions ’til I pay my bills. So you’re gonna have to call him anyway.

Me: No ma’am, I can’t do that for you.

Patient: Well, just find me a different doctor then.

Me: Um, no ma’am, I can’t do that either.

Patient: *yelling now* This is the kind of s**t I always get from y’all. Last time I came y’all screwed up with my insurance.

Me: Well, I can take a look at what was going on with your insurance right now so there won’t be a problem when you get here. *typing* It looks like you were put in as a no insurance self pay last time.

Patient: Yeah, y’all didn’t file it right.

Me: We don’t seem to have an insurance on file for you and you only came to us once two years ago so we didn’t have a prior insurance on file.

Patient: I told that lady she was gonna have to call my insurance company because I lost my cards.

Me: If you’ll give me the card info now I can get it in the system for you.

Patient: I just told you I lost my cards.

Me: You lost your cards two years ago and you never got a replacement?

Patient: Yeah

Me: Okay. I can probably get some information from your insurance company website so that you can get a new card sent to you. What’s the name of your insurance company?

Patient: How should I know? That’s your job to know that.

Me: Alright ma’am. Just give us a call back when you get an order from a doctor. *hangs up*

(I’m a teenager at a party attended by several families, all friends or acquaintances of my own family. I wander through the house with my best friend, also a teenager, as we talk about random stuff. I mention to her that I had a headache that morning until I took ibuprofen. A little while later, I’m sitting on the living room couch when four of the adults walk into the room together and sit down near me. They seem very solemn, and they’re all looking at me.)

Me: “Um… hi?”

Adult #1: “You know drugs are bad, right?”

Me: *confused* “Yes?”

Adult #1: “You know to stay away from them.”

Me: “Yes? What’s with the intervention?”

Adult #1: “You know you’re not supposed to take them.”

(I’m confused and a little hurt that they think I need a lecture. These people, who I’ve always respected and been friendly to, have never spoken so condescendingly to me before. I’ve known them for years. I’ve never had disciplinary problems or drug problems. I’ve even babysat some of their kids.)

Me: “Yep. Sure do. I mean, I do take [ADD pills] on the days I have classes. But I didn’t take one of those today since it’s Saturday and all. And this morning, I took ibuprofen because I had a headache. And then I stopped. Because the headache went away. And then, I didn’t need to take them anymore. Because I’m not an idiot. I’m also not addicted to drugs. And I don’t plan to be. Ever. I really don’t know why you would think I’d ever do that.”

(The group is silent. They seem to be digesting my words and don’t seem to know where to go next.)

Me: *stands up* “I’m going to go get some food. You guys want anything?”

(They said no, and I escaped to the kitchen. The whole encounter was very strange, but it was never brought up again.)