(My brother (18) and I (15) are in the doctor’s office waiting for our appointments. There is an elderly lady and a boy who looks like her grandson. Thanks to my dad, who is a big fan of AC/DC, Rolling Stones, and other famous bands and singers, I’ve grown up with 60s-90s music. As result I prefer that music over any other type. I have my headphones on and I am nodding to a catchy part of a song.)

Woman: *to the little boy* “Look at this teenager listening to heavy metal or whatever they call it. Don’t ever end up like that.”

(I hear what she says.)

Me: *unplugging my headphones revealing that I am listening to Frank Sinatra* “I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”

(The woman looked embarrassed as everyone in the office heard her and my response. She got up and left, taking the little boy with her.)

(My doctor’s office is part of a large local “franchise” with lots of different departments and offices, so they have a central line that goes to an operator and directs from there. I’ve called it to find a fax number.)

Operator: “Thank you for calling [Franchise] Central Operator. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hi, can I please have the fax number for the endocrinology department?”

Operator: “Sure, one second.”

(There is a very long pause.)

Operator: “I have… the endocrinology GROUP? Is that what you’re looking for?”

Me: “…Yes, that’s the one. Thank you.”

(I work in a physical therapy office, and most of the aides are students at the local university. It is the week before finals when I overhear this conversation between coworkers.)

Coworker #1: “Oh, you’re leaving early to cram for finals?”

Coworker #2: “Yeah.”

Coworker #1: “Are you hoping for divine intervention?”

Coworker #2: “Just trying to cram in some of the smaller details.”

Coworker #1: “If you don’t know the small details by now, I don’t think it’s going to work to cram them in before next week.”

Coworker #2: “What I really need is the hand of God to reach down and fill out my scantron for me.”

(I am interviewing for an office position. I’m 37 at the time.)

Doctor: “So do you plan on getting pregnant any time soon?”

(It is illegal to use my answer to that specific question in their hiring decision so I am shocked they asked it. I’m so taken by surprise that I answer it.)

Me: “No…”

Doctor: “Well, that’s probably good; your eggs are too old anyway.”

Me: “…”

(The government is holding back a tax return payment until I can prove to them that I really did have the kids with me for the past several years. One of the only ways I can do that is by getting a signed letter on the office letterhead from my family doctor. However, we’ve recently moved. I call over to my old doctor in BC.)

Me: “Hi, I’m a former patient…”

(I explain the letter I need from them and why.)

Receptionist: “Well, we can do up a letter for you but you’ll have to come in and pick it up in person if you want it on letterhead. We don’t do that over the phone.”

Me: “Okay, but I’m in Nova Scotia so that’s not really possible. So what do you need from me to send it to me? You can fax it to my current doctor if that helps.”

Receptionist: “No, you don’t understand. You have to come in in person in order to get the letter. We won’t do it over the phone.”

Me: “Yes, I understand it’s your policy, but I’m on the other side of the country, in Nova Scotia, as I said. I can’t just hop on a plane and pick it up.”

Receptionist: “Well, let me check…” *she talks to someone in the background for a moment* “No, I’m sorry; you’ll have to come in.”

Me: “No, I don’t think you understand: I AM IN NOVA SCOTIA. It just isn’t possible for me to pay over two thousand dollars to fly to BC to come and pick it up in person. There must be some other way to do it.”

Receptionist: “No, sorry; that’s the only way we can do it. You have to come in.”

Me: “That’s ridiculous.” *thinks for a moment* “What if I get a friend to come by and pick it up for me? Would that be possible?”

Receptionist: “Maybe? You’d have to try it and see if they’d take that.”

Me: “Yes, but can you find out for me if they would? My friend works nearby but they’d have to come in on their lunch so I don’t know if they can. I don’t want to waste their time. Would they give it to my friend if they come in for me?”

Receptionist: “They’d have to come by and try. I don’t know. They’d have to try and see.”

Me: “Okay. Fine. How late are you open? Great. Now, I want you to know that I know you don’t make the decision and don’t have any control over this, but I’d like you to pass along some feedback, okay? It is not cool that the only way a military family who is posted to the other side of the country can get a signed letter the government is requesting is by coming in in person, okay? You need to have some way to do it by phone or something. No one can just drop everything, spend over two thousand dollars on a return ticket, and fly from Nova Scotia to BC, across the entire country, to pick up a letter!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, but we can’t do it over the phone.”