I was feeling miserable at bedtime, and by 2:00 am I realized that it was an allergic reaction. My knees, elbows, neck, and spine were all swelling up and had gotten red, hot, itchy, and painful. When my six-year-old son woke up around 6:30 am, I grabbed some bananas and granola bars for him to eat in the car and headed to the hospital.  

By noon, I had had an IV of medication for almost four hours and was starting to feel better, while my son was bored and very hungry. The nurse served my lunch, and even though I was feeling better and getting hungry, I just grabbed the tiny, Barbie-sized coffee and gave the rest to my long-suffering son, who really needed it. About ten minutes later, the nurse came back, saw me with the coffee cup and my son with the rest of the lunch, and left.

About ten minutes after that, she came back claiming that someone had been released after the lunch orders were placed and that there was an extra lunch, so I could have it “for my son” if I wanted.

The emergency was swamped that day — I think my nurse had about 15 people she was looking after — and for her to take the time to make that gesture meant a lot for me, especially since I didn’t get released until about 5:00 pm. I still don’t know if there really was an extra lunch on the floor, or if she ordered it special, and I wouldn’t have starved not being able to eat until later, but I was definitely more comfortable and happy with a lunch in me, and I am super grateful for the   nurses in our local hospital!

(I work as a dental assistant. After doing some fillings for a patient, I walk her out to the front desk and she stops in the bathroom first. I notice our receptionist is busy with a call, and the dentist doesn’t have another patient for about 15 minutes, so I decide I’ll help out at the front desk and see the last patient out. She comes out of the bathroom and we have this conversation at the desk.)

Patient: “The dentist put a black filling in my mouth!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but there isn’t any such thing as a black filling. I can assure you [Doctor] only placed white composite fillings that match your tooth shade.”

Patient: “It’s right here! It’s black!” *points to a tooth on the opposite side from what we worked on*

Me: “Ma’am, [Doctor] placed fillings on the other side of your mouth. He didn’t touch the tooth you’re pointing to. What your pointing to is a silver amalgam filling that has aged and is no longer shiny, causing it to appear almost black.”

Patient: “No. This was not here before!”

Me: “Ma’am, where is your mouth frozen?”

Patient: *points to the side opposite of tooth she is complaining about*

Me: “That’s the side [Doctor] worked on, not the tooth you notice the dark spot on.”

Patient: “No, he did both. Go check with him or the nurse that was working with him.”

Me: “I am the assistant that was working with him. I’m just helping our receptionist, as she was busy with a call when you first came to the desk, and I can assure you that we did not work on that tooth or that side of your mouth. That is an old silver filling. If it bothers you, we can have the dentist look at it and see if he can replace it, but we’ll need to book you another appointment for that.”

Patient: “No, it’s fine.” *pays and leaves*

Receptionist: “I’m so glad that happened to you and not me.”

(My wife is on the phone with her 65-year-old father. He’s normally very intelligent, and not losing his mental faculty at all, but he is notoriously gullible. He’s telling her about a call he had earlier that day with Tech Support. It’s clear to us immediately that he was scammed.)

Wife: *to her father* “But you barely use your computer. Why would it have a bunch of viruses?” *listens to him speak* “But your computer was working fine.” *listens to him speak* “[Software Company] called you?” *listens to him speak* “It was a fake website, Dad. It’s just made to trick people by showing error messages and warnings about viruses.” *listens to him speak* “Please tell me you didn’t give him your credit card number!”

Me: “Give me the phone; I’ll explain it to him.” *takes phone*

Father-In-Law: “It wasn’t a scam. He said they found viruses, but he fixed the computer. He was really nice; his name was Mike.”

(My father-in-law used to work as a car mechanic until his recent retirement.)

Me: “Let me ask you one thing. Did your boss ever send you out to check the tire pressure for your clients at their own homes?”

Father-In-Law: “No.”

Me: “Did you ever drive around to your clients to check their oil without even asking them?”

Father-In-Law: “No, that’s silly.”

Me: “Right. It’s their car. They’re responsible for it, not you. And your boss couldn’t afford to pay you to check on everyone else’s cars for free. Right?”

Father-In-Law: “Of course.”

Me: “So, why would [Software Company] pay someone to check your computer for viruses when you never even asked them to? How many people would they need to employ to check on everyone with a computer?”

Father-In-Law: *in total surprise* “I think I’ve been scammed.”

(He called his bank, and they had already taken $1200. I seriously hate scammers.)

(My brother and I own a small bake shop. We give a discount to students, but people are always trying to scam us to get the discount when they don’t deserve it.)

Me: “Okay, your total is [amount].”

Customer: “But what about the discount?”

Me: “Are you a student?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Then you don’t get one.”

Customer: “What about the family discount?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “The owner’s my kid brother. Family gets a discount here. Didn’t they tell you when they hired your stupid a**?”

Me: “One sec.” *turns towards the kitchen* “Yo! [Brother]! Come out here for a sec.”

(My brother, who is 6’5″ and built like a train, comes out and towers over my “brother” and me.)

Brother: “What?”

Me: “Apparently, I’m not the eldest. Meet our older brother.”

(The customer is starting to look pretty nervous now.)

Me: “Now, he’s our brother, and we should treat him with respect, but apparently, I didn’t do a good enough job explaining the discount. Could you assist?”

(My brother has a slight language disorder, so he doesn’t mince his words, and he does not suffer fools gladly. Now very grumpy, he turns towards our would-be brother.)

Brother: “Is he a student?”

Me: “Nope!”

([Brother] crouches down and looks the customer dead in the eye.)

Brother: “No. Discount.”

It’s a busy day at the restaurant where I’m a dishwasher. I hear a lot of stories that the servers tell us in the kitchen. This is one of them.

A waitress comes in, saying how rude a customer is being because they got the wrong order. It’s a simple mistake, right? When she apologizes to them, saying that it’s an honest mistake — the food is for another table — the customer replies with, “Well, there goes your tip.”

Since the employees are allowed to somewhat tell off rude customers, my coworker replies with, “Bud, I’m not here for the tips; I’m here for the fun.”

Seriously, people. We’re all allowed to make mistakes. Being penalized your tip shouldn’t be any sort of punishment. There should be no punishment at all, really.