I’m waiting for my prescription to be filled, sitting next to the reception desk of the in-house optometrist. I only hear the receptionist’s half of the phone call, so I can only imagine what the other end sounds like.

Receptionist: “Hello, [Optometrist].”

Receptionist: “Yes, yes, we can certainly get you an appointment.”

Receptionist: “Yes, he still works here.”

Receptionist: “No, he doesn’t do late Wednesday night anymore; he does Thursdays, instead.”

Receptionist: “Thursdays.”

Receptionist: “Yes, he used to do late Wednesday nights, but he stopped that and now he does Thursday nights, instead.”

Receptionist: “Yes.”

Receptionist: “No, he doesn’t do Wednesday nights anymore; he does Thursday nights, instead.”

Receptionist: “Yes, Thursdays.”

Receptionist: “Yes, we can certainly get you an appointment on Thursday night. How is 6:20 for you?”

Receptionist: “Yes, in the evening.”

Receptionist: “Yes, on Thursday.”

Receptionist: “Okay then, how about the following Thursday? The latest I have is 7:00 pm.”

Receptionist: “Yes, in the evening. If that’s not going to work, may I suggest—”

Receptionist: “Yes, we are open Saturdays. We are open from 9:00 am until 2:00 pm.”

Receptionist: “Yes, he does work Saturdays. I can fit you in at ten o’clock this Saturday.”

Receptionist: “Yes, in the morning.”

Receptionist: “This Saturday.”

Receptionist: “The fourth of July.”

Receptionist: “Yes. Saturday. Have you been here before? What was the last name?”

Receptionist: “Can you spell that for me? Okay, nothing is coming up on my system. Are you sure you’ve seen him before?”

Receptionist: “Oh, I see, the appointment is for your husband. Has he seen the optometrist before?”

Receptionist: “No? Okay then, I’ll need his last name.”

Receptionist: “Well, yes, it probably all is on your Medicare card, but I’d need that in front of me to get the information off it.”

Receptionist: “Yes, the actual card.”

Receptionist: “Yes, I’d need to be holding it in my hand to get that information.”

Receptionist: “Okay then, can you please spell his name for me? Thank you. And his date of birth?”

Receptionist: “Once again, ma’am, I don’t have your Medicare card in front of me. Thank you.”

Receptionist: “Okay, we will see you at ten am this Saturday the fourth of July.”

Receptionist: “Yes, this Saturday. At ten o’clock.”

Receptionist: “Yes, in the morning. Please bring your Medicare care.”

Receptionist: “Yes, the actual card. Thank you. Bye.”

He hung up and made an expression that said, “Thank God that’s over.” As he turned around, he saw that I was looking straight at him and panicked briefly before he realised that I was shaking with silent laughter. I really want to be there at 10:00 am this Saturday to see what happens. Yes, in the morning. This Saturday.

My boyfriend uses a wheelchair. We’re at the pharmacy for his appointment to get the second dose of a two-course vaccine in 2021.

They have a table set up for check-ins. The employee checks him in and gestures us to an area a few feet away to wait. A minute or two later, another woman signs in. The employee gestures to our area.

Employee: “Please wait on the circle behind the gentleman in the…”

There is a very long, very obvious, very conspicuous pause. He finally says:

Employee: “…black T-shirt.”

I wanted to tell him it was okay and he didn’t need to worry, but I didn’t in case that would’ve made things more awkward. I know he only wanted to be considerate.

I am at a chain pharmacy picking up prescriptions. I have a personal policy that I don’t grab a basket or a cart so I don’t pick up too many extra items, but unfortunately, I’m also creative. I’m there with my fiancée and we have our arms full of stuffed animals. We go to check out, and there are a few people ahead of us. The person first in line keeps having her purchases rung up, bagged, and then unbagged and rung up again. There’s a manager on standby to run his ID to cancel out the transaction again and again.

Cashier: “I’m sorry, it did it again. I don’t know what’s wrong with our system today.”

Customer: “I’d like to go home today!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but you’re not the first person that this has happened to today.”

Finally, the teller moves her to a different register so the rest of the line can check out.

Customer: “You need to fix this! My card works elsewhere!”

Cashier: “I have no ability to fix this; it’s a tech issue we’ve been having.”

We can hear her continue to yell as she’s about three feet away. I get my excessive purchases rung up and hand them to my fiancée. This customer clearly wants to go home, right? She doesn’t have a lot of items and I don’t mind paying so she can go home.

Me: “Excuse me, miss, but I’d like to pay for your purchases so you can go home. I just—”

Customer: “I’M NOT POOR! HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF BEING POOR?!”

She is looking around at the entire store to be sure she’s heard.

Me: “Miss, I didn’t accuse you of being poor. I know this is an issue with their system and my card did work, so I was trying to make it so you could go home.”

Customer: “I’M NOT POOR! I’M NOT POOR!”

Cashier: “It’s just a problem with our system.”

Me: “No, I understand. I just know that my card works.”

The cashier gives me a very tired look as the customer just keeps yelling, “I’m not poor!” at the top of her lungs.

Me: “Well, miss, I hope you get to go home soon. Have a nice night.”

Customer: “I’M. NOT. POOR!”

I shrug and walk out of the store. I can hear her screaming even after the doors have closed behind me. My fiancée has been waiting in the car for me.

Fiancée: “What took so long?”

Me: “I tried to be nice. Didn’t go great.”

I overheard this exchange while waiting in line at the pharmacy.

Pharm Tech: “Sir, we weren’t able to fill this as we don’t have your current insurance on file.”

Customer: “It’s Medicare. I have Medicare.”

Pharm Tech: “We need to see your insurance card to be able to fill this. We don’t have anything from you or them about this.”

Customer: “I don’t have a card. But I’m on Medicare. I should automatically be on it.”

Pharm Tech: “Sir, you need to contact them. If you don’t have a card or statement from them, we have no way of knowing anything about your policy and we cannot fill this without insurance.”

Customer: “But it’s automatic. I don’t need a card!”

He continued to complain as he walked away, saying he didn’t need any proof because it should be “automatic.”

A customer orders an item online to pick up at the pharmacy and chooses to pay by invoice. The item is delivered to the pharmacy, and the customer comes in.

Customer: “I don’t want this item anymore.”

I happen to work that day, so I give her her money back. 

A while later, the customer receives the invoice and pays for the item. She then goes back to the pharmacy to get the invoice refunded. Again, I’m the one working.

Me: “I can’t refund the invoice, since I already gave you money back and that it would be a ‘double refund.’ You can’t get the money back twice.”

She doesn’t understand. In her mind she’s right, and she gets upset. I give her the number for customer service, hoping they can make her understand. I can’t help but wonder if I’m wrong and she really should get her money back.

A few weeks later, I get an email from someone working in our head office, wanting to know what this is all about. I send an email back explaining what’s happened. They then send me another email, saying that I did the right thing. I haven’t heard anything since then, but I have a feeling this customer isn’t going to give up that easily. We’ll see what happens.