Pray For This Child

| Sydney, NSW, Australia | Right | May 22, 2015

(A newborn baby is getting its first check up and gets the all clear.)

Nurse: “Any questions?”

Father: “Is it normal for the baby to pass wind?”

Has One-Stroke-Two A Brain

| Midlands, England, UK | Working | May 4, 2015

(A colleague of mine is known for her liking of trifle and always buys an expensive ready-made one. At my suggestion she decides to try homemade but, not being confident in the kitchen, first decides to try a box mix that contains everything in it, including a cream-type topping in a powder form that you mix with milk.)

Me: “Hey, how did the trifle making go last night?”

Colleague: “Well, I got the jelly and the custard part right, but couldn’t get the cream to work at all. It was so runny.”

Me: “Runny? How were you mixing it? It’s a really easy topping. Did you use a hand whisk or electric whisk?”

Colleague: “An electric whisk, as I thought that would be easier, but I whisked it for about 15 minutes and it still didn’t work.”

Me: “I can’t understand why it didn’t work then. Using an electric whisk should only take a minute, max. How about you go through the steps and let’s see if we can work it out.”

(By now several other colleagues are listening in:)

Colleague: “Well, I put the powder in a bowl, measured the milk and added it to the powder, and whisked. That’s all… Mind you, I wasn’t too sure of the amount of milk so I used almost two pints.”

Me: “Hang on a minute… How could you not be sure of the amount of milk? It tells you on the packet.”

Colleague: “Yes I know, but it said one to two pints and as I like the topping bit I decided to make the most I could, so used almost two pints.”

Me: “[Colleague], I think you’ve measured the milk wrong. It sounds too much but I can’t remember because I’ve not used a box mix for years.”

Colleague: “Well, it definitely said ‘One-stroke-two’ pints of milk.”

(At this point we all started laughing as we realise the packet must have said 1/2 pint (as in half a pint of milk) and she hadn’t known!)

Some Compliments Can Creep Up On You

| UK | Friendly | July 13, 2014

(I have just signed in at reception for an appointment, while an elderly man is headed for the door. I have long hair; it ends just above my bum.)

Elderly Man: “Mornin'”

Me: “Good morning.”

Elderly Man: “You have lovely hair you know.”

Me: “Thanks.”

Elderly Man: “It would look lovely draped over my silk pink cushion.”

(The elderly man leaves the office at a pace I did not realize he could move at.)

Me: “Erm… thanks?”

Receptionist: “It was a sort of compliment, I guess…”

(Luckily, I have not seen that man at the doctor’s again!)

Taking The Man Out Of Spiderman

| Canada | Right | July 2, 2014

(I work as a receptionist for my dad’s chiropractic office. Most of the patients are lovely, but we do have some odd ones. One patient in particular is a little bit sexist, but because he’s never intends to be outright rude, I just try to ignore his somewhat sexist comments. Today when he comes in he tries to play a little joke on me.)

Patient: *comes up to the desk and starts pointing at a random spot on it* “There’s a spider! Get it! Get it!”

(I casually look around, as I have had spiders sneak their way to my desk before, but I don’t see anything.)

Me: “Where is it? I don’t see it.”

Patient: *gives a bit of an odd look* “Right there! Get it!”

Me: *look again but still doesn’t see anything* “I still don’t see it. I guess it got away.” *shrugs*

Patient: *gives me another weird look* “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

Me: “Spiders don’t really bug me.”

Patient: “Oh… should I have said it was a snake?”

Me: “They don’t bug me either. I actually like snakes.”

Patient: *looks baffled* “What kind of woman are you?!”

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Very Bad Reception, Part 6

| Lancashire, England, UK | Working | June 20, 2014

(My GP surgery and the people who work in it are usually brilliant, but recently they’d had a system update that not only did everyone seem to despise, but not everyone seemed to be able to use. I need a bunch of specific tests done that I am not really comfortable with. About two weeks before they said they’d booked me in for an appointment when they hadn’t, and I ended up waiting for an hour before going home and getting some much needed sleep before I chewed someone to pieces for what was likely a one-time accident. It is two weeks later.)

Me: “Hi. I had an appointment at [time], but I never got called. The person who came for the appointment after mine just got called. I think you’ve forgotten to book me in.”

Receptionist #1: “Ah, yeah. You’re not booked in. When did you arrive? You need to speak to us when you do. The appointment machine isn’t working.”

Me: “I know. I pointed this out to the lady standing behind you when she asked me to use it fifteen minutes before [appointment time]. I don’t know how, but you’ve skipped booking me in, and I’d like you to fix that, thanks.”

(She puts a note on the system to say what had happened and asks me to sit down again. Since she doesn’t actually tell the doctor, three more appointments are called whilst I sit there. Eventually someone actually tells the GP what has happened and I finally get called, over an hour later.)

GP: “I’m really sorry. I don’t—”

Me: “Well, I’m glad somebody apparently is.”

GP: “What?!”

Me: “I have been sitting out there for an hour and a half, despite booking in on time, because someone made a mistake and actually fixing said mistake was apparently too difficult to do. Not once did I get an apology until you apologised, either. I get it, mistakes happen, but that’s twice this fortnight and I’m a little tired of it.”

(After explaining exactly what happened, the GP agreed to speak to the reception staff and pointed out they should have rung her from the start. Meanwhile, the tests I was going in for: everything came back normal except for my blood pressure, which had inexplicably skyrocketed the second time around.)

Related:
Very Bad Reception, Part 5
Very Bad Reception, Part 4
Very Bad Reception, Part 3

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