CONTENT WARNING: Surgery Details

In my early twenties, I am married to a software engineering student who is attending a college that offers married and family housing, where we live for three years. When I am twenty-one — and receiving AMAZING medical and long-term disability benefits from my job in a call center — I have surgery to correct a major birth defect in my chest called pectus excavatum, otherwise known as sunken chest syndrome.

The surgery involves a thoracic surgeon making a roughly fourteen-inch incision under my breasts and literally dissecting and reassembling my sternum with Kevlar mesh and plastic pins. The surgery is really awful to watch and leaves a very nasty-looking incision plus severe bruising on my chest immediately after surgery.

About two weeks after the surgery, I am in my bathroom doing a bandage change and cleaning the surgery site when I am suddenly startled by a maintenance man opening the bathroom door! The guy didn’t knock or announce himself, so I haven’t had time to make myself “decent”.

Instead of being apologetic…

Maintenance Man: “Why the h*** is your top off?! What happened to your chest?! It looks disgusting! Didn’t you get the message that we were going to be doing routine maintenance on the plumbing this week? I wouldn’t have accepted this job if I knew that I was going to see things this disgusting!”

Maintenance had sent out a message, but they didn’t specify the specific time or day that they were going to be at my apartment.

Me: “Why the h*** did you enter my apartment without announcing yourself? You know that this is family housing, so anyone could be home when you were doing your maintenance! My chest looks like this because I just had major surgery to correct a very painful birth defect that my poverty-stricken parents couldn’t afford to fix! What, I don’t have the right to change my bandages in my own apartment?”

One of the maintenance supervisors (whom I know quite well) hears the whole exchange from the stairwell.

Supervisor: *To the maintenance man* “What is wrong with you? Your training told you that you are supposed to knock five times and loudly announce yourself when you enter living quarters! I heard you just walk right into Mrs. [My Name]’s apartment!” 

Maintenance Man: “But I’m maintenance! I have the right to enter any living quarters that I want to! You should report her to Housing because she shouldn’t be doing something that disgusting in her apartment! I never expected to see disgusting things when I took this job!”

Supervisor: “So, you took a job on a college campus that has somewhat of a reputation for being a party school and you didn’t expect to see anything gross? Man, you are sheltered! I went to unclog a drain in a dorm last week, and I found several students having a sex party! And guess what? They didn’t even stop the whole time I was in there! Someone cleaning a surgical incision is the least of your problems!”

Maintenance Man: “College is for learning, not partying and doing gross things like what [My Name] was doing! I am going to report her to Housing for what she was doing!”

Supervisor: “Are you an idiot? You walk into an apartment without announcing yourself and actually enter the bathroom, and you are offended that a resident is cleaning a surgical incision? I am telling the maintenance manager about what you just did! He isn’t going to be happy!”

Maintenance ended up leaving for the day. I was contacted by the maintenance manager an hour later, and he was very apologetic about the whole incident.

I later found out from [Supervisor] that [Maintenance Man] was fired after he started ranting to the manager about how people shouldn’t expect privacy in on-campus housing and how people with medical needs shouldn’t be allowed to live on campus!

This happened in the early 1970s when the wonderful world of walkie-talkies had not quite reached the peak of popularity and common usage. Keep in mind that this was long ago, so the conversations are approximated.

I was an apprentice, assisting the electrical engineer who was servicing the elevators of a building. The place was high enough society that they had security guards. The electrical engineer sent me out of the building to get a couple of boxes of bolts for control covers for the lift controls.

My mistake: the work was pretty hot, so I had taken off my jacket while working; unfortunately, my jacket had my ID badge in it. The elevator electronics were huge and filthy with oils, so I fully admit I looked like a complete mess. We had been doing battle with the great metal beast that had decided to hemorrhage fluids everywhere and make horrendous metallic noises like a dying UFO. Also, unfortunately, the security guards changed shifts whilst I was out of the building, so they hadn’t seen me previously going in or going out. So now, with no ID badge, the security guards wouldn’t let me in.

Me: “Look, I get it. You have a job to do and I can’t come in without my badge. Could one of you please tell [Electrical Engineer] at the elevator to bring it? You can get confirmation from him and from my ID that I have business here.”

Guard #1: *Pompously* “Nah, I don’t think so.”

Me: “Sorry? Why not?”

Guard #1: “Because you’re some random, snot-nosed kid in filthy clothes. I’m not going to bother a professional.”

Me: “I’m his apprentice.”

Guard #2: “Sure you are, kid. Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal: if you walk out that door in the next ten seconds, I won’t box your ear and throw you out myself.”

I took a deep breath, let it out, walked out to the truck, and leaned against it. Now, we’d been working on this thing all day, and the box of bolts I had been sent out to get was supposed to be one of the last things we did.

Due to me being told to get out, [Electrical Engineer] went over his allowed working hours. I saw him come down to the lobby, looking inquisitive. This is his conversation with the guards, as told to me when he came out.

Electrical Engineer: “Have you seen my apprentice? I sent him out to get some supplies.”

Guard #1: “Eh, some filthy brat tried getting in here, but no ID, no entry.”

Electrical Engineer: “His ID was with me. You could have come to ask.”

Guard #2: *Grunting and lazily scratching his belly* “Yeah, we could have. So, anyway, is the elevator fixed yet?”

Electrical Engineer: “Thanks to you two idiots? No.”

Guard #1: “What?!”

Electrical Engineer: “I called you both idiots. Due to my work hours being up, due to you morons not letting my apprentice back into the building, and due to him not being able to bring me the supplies I needed, the elevator will remain unusable until sometime tomorrow.”

Beaming broadly, [Electrical Engineer] went in and came back down with my stuff as well as his own and we left. We laughed all the way back to our offices as the guards sputtered and protested, only to be ignored. 

There was a very interesting phone call later, where [Electrical Engineer] gave his side of the story to the building manager. Apparently, two guards meant that one was indeed expected to check in such instances, and the building manager was not happy to note that the guards had failed to follow protocol and had just caused a delay in getting the lift fixed. Many building residents were going to have a lot to say when they found out that they would have to walk up or down flights upon flights of stairs if they wanted to go anywhere.

The next day, we arrived early, at a pretty premium rate, and the morning shift guards were VERY pleasant and professional to us the whole time we were there.

My wife and I have a service plan with a local plumbing and gas engineering company. Our experiences with them have been a bit variable, but this is the one that is probably going to make us cancel our subscription once everything has been sorted out.

Our living room has a gas fire which was designed to mimic a log fireplace with fireproof replica “logs”. When the engineer was servicing the fireplace, he somehow managed to break one of them. To his credit, he apologised to my wife and admitted it was his fault. However, his bosses took a different view when my wife phoned them to arrange the repair and replacement.

This is a summary of various interactions over the last six months.

Wife: “Hello. One of your engineers broke one of our fireplace logs, so we’re calling to arrange its repair.”

Receptionist: “Okay, we’ll price the log and then give you a price for the purchase and installation.”

Wife: “Oh, no, sorry, I think you’ve misunderstood. We aren’t paying for this; your engineer broke the fireplace. I am just phoning to schedule the repair.”

Receptionist: “Hmmm, this seems very unusual. I’ll need to speak to the engineer and come back to you.”

They ended the call, and a few days later they phoned my wife back.

Receptionist: “Hi, [Wife]. I’ve spoken to the engineer and my managers. They have confirmed that the damage was caused by the engineer, and whilst we would not normally be liable, we would have repaired it as a gesture of goodwill. Unfortunately, though, the part you need is no longer in production and we can’t source it ourselves. If you can find it yourself at a reasonable price, we will refund the balance and agree to install it.”

My wife immediately went online and discovered that A) the part was very much still in production and B) was in stock at a number of local retailers. She phoned them back.

Wife: “Hello. I spoke to someone earlier about the repair of my fireplace and was told that the part you need isn’t in production and can’t be bought directly. I have just confirmed that is not true; it is in production and can be bought directly from either the manufacturer or local stockists.”

Receptionist: “Hmmm, we must have made a mistake. Let me look into it.”

A few days later, my wife got a call and a very grudging admission that they actually could buy the part. It took several weeks to do so and schedule an engineer to come out and complete the installation.

The appointment was yesterday, and the work was completed without incident until the engineer was wrapping up.

Engineer: “Hello, Mrs. [Wife], that’s me done. However, I just got a message from the office that they have asked me to pass on. [Receptionist] has asked me to tell you that we will not pay for any more repairs.”

Wife: “Excuse me? The work that you have just completed was only needed because your colleague broke it in the first place! I don’t expect you to pay for general wear and tear or things we’ve damaged, but when you break something, I think it’s pretty reasonable to expect that you pay for it.”

The engineer sheepishly reiterated that he was just passing the message on. As it stands, we are debating the merits of cancelling our service contract with them. I absolutely would if there were a lot of options available to me, but unfortunately, there aren’t many where we live.

My friend lives in an apartment building on the fourth floor. She has problems with her knees which are aggravated by a number of factors. Recently, she texted our friend group.

Friend: “My apartment building’s elevator has been out of service for FOUR WEEKS, and they say it will be another two weeks at least before it’s fixed!”

Apparently, the elevator hadn’t been inspected for years, and they shut it down for safety reasons to bring it up to code. What’s really scary is all the times we rode in that elevator. You can be sure the next time I ride in one, I’m going to check the last time it was inspected.

This is a nice complex, not the kind where you would expect this kind of thing to happen. The apartment complex did eventually fix the elevator, and they gave the building’s residents money off their rent as compensation, but it makes you wonder if it’s the only building with this problem.

I work at a smaller boutique hotel in a city that mostly sees business guests from Tuesday to Friday, but on this particular weekend, we have a big event. Hotels well into the suburbs are all sold out and we are doing a complete flip of the hotel.

Because I am the front office lead with the most experience, I am asked to come in for a death flip (because hotels love to punish you for being good at your job). I get to see the night staff as they come in for their shift and again when they clock out.

Being a smaller property, our night bellman doubles as security, and they let me know that the business guests checking out this morning will likely be in a mood because they received multiple noise complaints from multiple rooms throughout the night. They said they went up to check every time they got a call but never heard any noise coming from any room in particular, so they weren’t able to do whatever they had to do in that situation.

I prepare myself to be a punching bag as much as I possibly can, drink my coffee, and let my trainee know that she’s in for a treat this morning. Nothing is more fun than handling angry guests while a trainee slowly learns her way through a lineup of cranky business people and annoying hotel casuals trying to check into their rooms at 10:00 am.

The lineup is long, the people are angry, the trainee is trying, and I am just smiling and comping my way through verbal assaults when, suddenly, a man emerges from the elevator. He is in his underwear and covered in white dust.

He jumps the line — no one protests — and he just growls at the trainee:

Guest: “Checking out.”

I excuse myself from the only other terminal where I have been getting a verbal lashing from a gentleman who has just turned downright pleasant upon realizing that someone else needs to yell at me more than he does.

I join my trainee just as she robotically asks the guest if he has enjoyed his stay. Here’s what we discover happened.

In the middle of the night, this guy got up to take a leak, and when he tried to exit the bathroom, the door wouldn’t open. (Maintenance went up afterward, and for inexplicable reasons, the door was impossibly stuck in the frame.) He said he tried body slamming the door and tried smashing the doorknob with the top of the toilet tank (which shattered), and in between his attempts to solve a real-world escape room, he would scream for help. But since he was in town for an important meeting, he also wanted to ensure that he was able to catch a few winks, so he’d sleep in the bathtub in between escape attempts. Once he realized that he likely wouldn’t be discovered until after checkout and he had places to be, he ended up using pieces of shattered porcelain and the plastic housing that covers the Kleenex box to DIG A MAN-SHAPED HOLE THROUGH THE DRYWALL and into the hotel room!

He was so understandably incensed that when he crawled through the drywall hole, he just bee-lined it downstairs without another thought.

Trainee: “Should I still charge his card for the stay?”

I swear I can feel this man’s eyes burning a hole through my soul before I can say:

Me: “Absolutely not.”

After that, the guests in line who had witnessed this were notably nicer realizing that: a) comparably, their night wasn’t so bad, and b) maybe someone could have specified to security that it was someone screaming for help that had roused them from their slumber.

In the end, we didn’t get sued (that I am aware of). And not only was maintenance able to replace the door (which had to have the hinges removed and then be knocked out), but they also patched the drywall, and we were able to sell the room later that night at some exorbitant rate given the city and surrounding area’s occupancy.