(I work in an assisted living facility. My boss has me playing Christmas music from the computer in the front lobby. It’s been going on since before Thanksgiving. One of my Muslim coworkers comes up and we’re talking and she starts singing along. It should be noted that she wears hijab. A white, male visitor has just signed in and is walking off for his visit with his relative.)

Coworker: “I love Christmas music!”

Me: “You seem to know all the words, too.”

Visitor: *cuts me off* “You can’t!”

Me: “What?”

Visitor: “Her! She can’t like Christmas music! She’s one a them d***…” *makes flailing hand movements towards her*

Coworker: *just standing there, looking shocked*

Me: *eyes narrowed, customer service smile gone* “Sir, she can like whatever music she pleases. It’s a free country. I don’t appreciate your tone.”

Visitor: “You’re supporting a d*** [racial slur]?!”

Me: “I’m supporting my friend. Sir. I’m going to have to ask you to continue on your way or leave.”

Visitor: *starting to puff up for another rant*

Me: *cutting him off* “Nope. [Resident]’s room is that way. Have a nice visit.” *gives a very non-customer-service look*

Visitor: *stares for a second and then stomps off, muttering under his breath*

Me: “I’m sorry about people like that, [Coworker]. Guy obviously had a candy cane up his a**.”

Coworker: *shakes head*

(I got up and gave my coworker a hug. She was kind of shook by the whole thing. I can’t imagine what was wrong with this man. Maybe he really did have a candy cane up his a**… or maybe he needed one. I will never understand what is wrong with people.)

(I’m working away at the front desk when an interviewee comes in for her appointment. I ask her to have a seat, call the appropriate manager, and get back to my work. I have Christmas music playing, not very loudly, from my computer. A minute later, I hear some beeps and whooshes over the music… the unmistakable sounds of a certain candy-themed mobile game. I’m just about to ask her to turn the sound down or off when:)

Interviewee: “Could you turn the music down? I can’t hear my game.”

Me: *stares*

Interviewee: *stares back*

(We stared at each other for a good few seconds before she apparently got the clue, turned her phone off, and stuck it in her bag. Just… wow.)

(I’m working at the front desk of an assisted living facility on Christmas Day. A visitor comes in to see a resident and she comes up to my desk with her family to sign in. They’re talking as they come in the door.)

Visitor: “I just can’t believe they have them working on Christmas Day! It’s not right. People shouldn’t work on the Lord’s birthday!”

Me: *having heard this and not too pleased with her attitude, I give the very basic of customer service greetings* “Welcome to [Business].”

Visitor: “No, it’s ‘Merry Christmas’! You say, ‘Merry Christmas,’ first!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but not everyone celebrates the holiday, so I just stay with the standard greeting unless someone says it first.”

Visitor: “And you’re working today, too. Disrespecting our Lord and savior!”

(I really, REALLY want to go off on a rant about how Pagan traditions came before Christian ones and how Jesus’s birthday wasn’t even in December according to most scholars, etc.)

Me: “Well, someone has to be here to let those like yourself in to visit their loved ones.” *insert sugar-coated customer service smile here*

Visitor: *eyes bulging* “Well! I… I just…” *turns red and stomps off, her family following, the teenage kids snickering*

(Seriously. You can’t have it both ways — getting to visit people or go shopping or whatever and NOT having people work on a holiday. That’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works! Idiots.)

(It’s Christmas Eve. I work at an assisted living facility and we have a private dining room for residents’ families to reserve for family events and such. It has been completely booked for Christmas Day for at least a month. I have had some version of this conversation at least five times today:)

Visitor/Resident: “Hi, I’d like to reserve the private dining room tomorrow. What time is it available?”

Me: “I’m sorry, it’s booked solid all day tomorrow. And the 26th, as well.”

Visitor/Resident: “What? Why?!”

Me: “Because… tomorrow is Christmas Day?”

Visitor/Resident: “But you didn’t even look at your calendar! I’ll bet you just don’t want me to have it!”

Me: “That’s not true at all. And I didn’t look at the calendar because I know it’s been booked for at least a month.”

Visitor/Resident: *continues throwing temper tantrum*

(It’s not like Christmas comes at a different time each year. Can’t anyone plan ahead anymore? And not only that, but d***, I’ve never seen grown-a** adults throw such temper tantrums, especially when logically explained something. Ridiculous.)

(I work the front desk at an assisted living home. My desk is in an area set up like a living room. Residents and their visitors hang out here throughout the day. I always have music playing for them — pretty much always something instrumental. Today, being Christmas Eve, I have a jazz piano holiday playlist playing. Most people are very appreciative of it, and so far — of what I’ve paid attention to — it’s been Christmas songs. Then, I recognize a song that relates to Hanukkah. It’s a very upbeat song and I’m enjoying it even though I don’t celebrate the holiday, because music is music. Then, this lady who I recognize as the daughter of a resident, comes up with a look of Hell’s own fury upon her face.)

Resident’s Daughter: “It’s Christmas! This is a Christian place!”

(It’s not; we have residents and staff of several religions here.)

Resident’s Daughter: “My dad hates this song!”

(He’s actually sitting in his wheelchair smiling and nodding along to the beat.)

Resident’s Daughter: “Why are you playing this disgusting bulls***?!”

(And then, after she blows her gasket, she asks me to turn it off. Cue my customer service face:)

Me: “No, ma’am, the rest of my residents and their visitors seem to be enjoying it.”

Resident’s Daughter: “You’re a godd*** Jew-lover!” *explodes into an incoherent rage of screaming and profanities*

Me: *customer service smile again* “Yes, ma’am. I love Jewish people, Christians, Muslims, Pagans… Religion doesn’t matter to me. I judge a person based on their character.”

(I think her eyeballs about popped out of her face as she turned a wonderfully festive shade of red, did more of the incoherent screaming and swearing thing, and then stomped out the door… or tried to, because I didn’t unlock the door in time and she kind of smacked into it. Oops.)