(After 20 years of seeing only female OB/GYNs, I have moved to a new city and can only get in to see a male gynecologist. I have been reassured by a friend, who is also a doctor, that he is one of the best in his field, but I’m nervous even after chatting with him at his desk. Once I’m by myself and getting “into the position” in an exam room, I notice only one stirrup is up, leaving my foot away from the wall hanging loose.)

Doctor: *knocks politely before entering* “Okay, are you settled in?”

Me: “Well, I couldn’t scoot to the edge of the table because only one stirrup is working. Is it broken?”

Doctor: *smiling and wincing* “No, I just wait until I’m seated to move up that one. Walking into it once was enough to never let that happen again.”

Me: *realizing it would be at groin level for him as well as for me* “Well, that is an occupational hazard I wouldn’t have considered!”

(He’s still my doctor a dozen years later.)

(When I was a child, we lived in a suburban neighborhood with older houses built close together. One year, my mother gets “puppy fever” and adopts a German Shepherd. She and the dog bond instantly, and she becomes overprotective of him. That same year, a family of opossums moves into our backyard. When our dog is outside, the opossums sit on the back fence and hiss at him. They are too high up for him to reach, so he angrily barks at them. My mother becomes enraged, as well, that the opossums are taunting her “baby,” and tries to chase them off with a broom, but each night they return. One night, we hear the dog begin to bark at the fence, and Mother jumps to her feet, yelling, “That’s it!” As we watch in horror, she retrieves my father’s shotgun from the closet, marches outside, and begins shooting at the back fence. Having little experience with guns, she misses the opossums completely, but does manage to hit the neighbor’s garage.)

Neighbor: *running outside* “Oh, my God! What’s wrong?”

Mom: “Mind your own business!”

(My mother passed away in May of this year. My brother and I shared this story at her funeral: she was incorrigible to the end, and we think she would have approved.)

(I work in a call center for a retail store. We have a customer call in asking why her reshipment hasn’t been received yet. The conversation ends up like this:)

Me: “Ma’am, I am seeing here that your package is still on its way. It was shipped out on the third, correct?”

Customer: *irate* “Yes, and it’s the fifth. The agent I spoke to last time said it was two days, so why is it not here yet?!”

Me: “Our reshipments are always done through premium shipping automatically, which is two to three business days after one day of processing; it sho—”

Customer: “NO! The last guy said it was only two days. You’re lying to me because you don’t want to help me!”

Me: “I’m afraid the agent you spoke with previously was misinformed. I have the shipping information right here and I can confirm it’s still on its way. I wouldn’t lie to you, and I’m not lying to you. I want to help you get this package.”

Customer: “You did lie, and now you’re arguing with me! I can’t believe you, you a**hole! I’ve worked in customer service for twenty years and I’ve never argued with a customer once, a**hole!”

Me: “I did not mean to sound argumentative; I’m sorry. I did confirm for you tha—”

Customer: *cutting me off AGAIN* “No, you’re an a**hole! Get your manager for me, right NOW!”

Me: “I can absolutely grab my supervisor for you, but I would like to suggest before I connect you over to him that you not be verbally abusive, because if you are, then the supervisor might no—”

Customer: “F*** YOU! GIVE ME THE MANAGER NOW!”

(I gladly put her on hold and message my supervisor about this. He says he’ll be free to take the call in about five minutes. I take the customer off hold for just a second…)

Me: “Hello, ma’am, it’s [My Name] with [Company] again. I just wanted to let you know that our supervisor is currently busy, but he will be availabl—”

Customer: “Shut up! Listen, I don’t want to hear you speak EVER AGAIN! DO NOT pick up the phone again UNTIL IT’S YOUR MANAGER!”

(I gladly put her on hold again, and eventually transferred her over to my supervisor. Exactly 23 minutes later, I got a call from a very sweet, old lady who asked to speak to our supervisor about a follow-up. I messaged my supervisor and he was STILL ON THE PHONE WITH THE SAME WOMAN!)

(The city is working on its water mains, which results in the water being completely shut off in the library I work in. There is no estimated time when this will be complete; it could be hours, or it could be days. That means the library has no running water whatsoever for an indefinite amount of time, which includes the water fountains and restrooms.)

Director: “We can still open; people don’t stay here that long, anyway.”

Manager: *shocked* “But what about our staff? Some of them are scheduled for eight-hour shifts!”

Director: “What about them? Most of them bring water bottles or coffee. Heck, I’ll go out and buy a crate of water bottles for everyone.”

Manager: “What about the bathrooms?“

Director: “What about the bathrooms?”

Employee #1: “If we’re going to work for eight hours, we’re going to need to use the bathrooms sooner or later.”

Director: “You can still use them; you just can’t flush.”

(At this point, every staff member within hearing range turns around and looks at her in total disgust.)

Manager: “You want us to keep using the same toilet all day?“

Director: *as if it’s the most obvious thing in the whole world* “Yes. I don’t mind. I’ll be using the same toilets that haven’t been flushed. It doesn’t bother me.”

Employee #2: “But what about the smell? Do you want the whole library to smell like a cesspool?”

Director: *mumbles* “I don’t see the problem.”

Employee #1: “Think about the maintenance staff who has to clean after all that, too.”

Director: “I still don’t see what the big deal is. Most of the patrons don’t even go near the bathrooms.”

(At that point, the union representative walks in.)

Employee #1: “Hey, [Union Rep], did you hear? The city shut down water to the whole building.”

Union Representative: “If it’s shut off for more than two hours, we have to close: OSHA’s rules.”

(No one clapped because the director was there. She shot the Union Rep one heck of a death glare. She was PISSED OFF the entire rest of the day and sulked around her staff. It didn’t help when the water remained shut off for more than two hours, and she had to send everyone home with pay.)

When I was a senior in high school, the two industrial manufacturing teachers were unexpectedly absent. This was not expected to be a particular problem, as the course work for those classes was constructing a year-long project; the previous three years had been focused on technique and safety, so the primary role of the teachers was consulting on design issues or troubleshooting, which were problems that can wait a day if needed. Nonetheless, district regulations required a teacher to be physically present, so a substitute was brought in. I didn’t even notice this at the start of class, because I went straight to work.

An hour into the three-hour class, I noticed that I didn’t hear anything else going on — no machines running, no conversations, not even any hammering. I found out that the sub had gathered up all the students he saw and had them working on a special project in the CAD room. He was also the owner of a local nightclub, and had them designing art for it using the school facilities.

This turned out to be his very last day as a substitute teacher, for some inexplicable reason.