(I work in a shoe store. Today this guy comes in, and picks out and pays for work boots. Then, this happens:)

Associate: “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any bags big enough for this box.”

Customer: “Then I don’t want them. Give me my money back.”

Associate: “Ooookay…”

(I went to a doctor appointment, and during that appointment they were suppose to give me a tetanus shot. They gave me the wrong shot. So I had to go back into the doctor later to get the tetanus shot I was suppose to get the first time. When I went back in, I just got the shot, then left; no other service was provided. I then get a bill for the second visit, and this exchange happens when I call their billing department.)

Me: “I am calling regarding a bill I got. I don’t think I should be charged for this appointment because the only reason I had to come in was because of an error by the nurse.”

Billing: “I show here you had an appointment on [first date] and you paid your copay; is that correct?”

Me: “Yes.”

Billing: “Then I show you had a follow up appointment on [second date], and you did not pay your copay. That is why we are billing you.”

Me: “That’s why I’m calling. The appointment on the [second date] was only required because your nurse made a mistake on the [first date]. If she had not made a mistake, I wouldn’t have come in for that appointment.”

Billing: “I understand, sir, but since you came in for the second appointment, then we need to bill you for that appointment. Since your insurance covered everything but the copay, you have to pay that copay.”

Me: “Let me explain again. On the first appointment, your nurse made a mistake. She gave me the wrong injection. I had to come in for the second appointment only because she made a mistake. If she had not made the mistake, I wouldn’t have come back in.”

Billing: “It doesn’t matter; you still have to pay.”

Me: *getting frustrated now* “Okay, let me ask you this another way. After your nurse made a mistake the first time, I could have gone to a lawyer, or filed a complaint against your practice. Also, I could have filed a complaint with my insurance provider, since you have actually billed them twice for getting the same injection. I did none of those things. So your choice is to now credit my account for the copay, or my next call will be to the medical practice board, and then my insurance company.”

Billing: “One moment, please.” *puts me on hold for about five minutes then comes back* “I’ve talked to the doctor. We are going to waive that copay, but we will not do it again for any further visits.”

(After that call I found a new doctor. No surprise, his practice went out of business a few months later. I know people complain how everyone is lawsuit-happy nowadays. You’d think if you had a patient who wasn’t interested in going the legal route but just didn’t want to be charged for their mistake they would happily oblige. I guess not.)

(I’m at a therapist’s office, and I’m really close with the women at reception. I make some small talk with one of them.)

Receptionist: “Did you do something new to your hair? It looks really nice!”

Me: “It’s been a full two months since I last cut it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Receptionist: “No… it’s really stylish! Did you go to a salon?”

Me: “I haven’t brushed in over a week; I’m surprised I had the energy to shower today.”

Receptionist: “I think I’ll just be quiet now.”

(If a customer hasn’t signed their credit card, we’re supposed to check their ID. After having numerous people ask me why I want to see their ID, I’ve started briefly explaining this. It’s not usually an issue, but this particular customer scowls at me the whole time I am ringing her up, and especially after she hands me her card.)

Me: “May I see your ID, because your card isn’t signed?”

Customer: *digs her ID out of her wallet, looks at it for a moment without showing it to me, and then puts it back in her wallet* “So, you want me to sign my card?”

Me: “Actually, if it’s not signed, state law requires that I check your ID.”

(She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh before digging her ID back out and finally showing it to me. It wasn’t my fault she put it back in the first place.)

(I am repainting some of the public benches for the city when a woman sits on the bench I’m painting.)

Woman: “Oh, my God! You got paint all over my clothes!”

Me: “Well, you just sat on wet paint, so…”

Woman: “How was I supposed to know the paint was wet?”

(I look down at the paintbrush in my hand, and at the company name — which includes “painter” — clearly written on my uniform.)

Me: “Most people can tell.”