This Caller Could Not Be Roached

, , , , , | Right | April 6, 2018

I manage a large apartment complex. One Friday a resident calls and informs me that he has seen a couple of cockroaches in his home, in his kitchen. I inform him that our professional exterminator will be there this coming Wednesday, and he will go in and treat the apartment to get rid of any bugs, including roaches.

I arrive to work on the following Monday, before his apartment is to be exterminated. The same resident has left me a voicemail on my answering machine. He says that he made a pecan pie for the staff and myself, but he had to go to work before our office opened, and would I please go to his home to get it. He said he left it sitting out on the kitchen counter.

I think I’m going to tell him that I never got his message.

Definitely Has The Balls To Do It

, , , , , , , , | Romantic | March 21, 2018

I work at a fast-food place with my friend. It’s mid-summer and my friend has just had a messy breakup with his girlfriend of three years, after he caught her having sex with another friend. Four days post-breakup, we are working the grill area when in walks his ex and the guy she cheated with, clearly showing him off as her new boyfriend.

She makes eyes with my friend and then orders her food. It’s all grill items, and my friend knows it’s her order because she ordered the same unusual alterations to her food when they were together.

It becomes apparent very quickly that both she and the guy intend to humiliate my friend by making him make them their food. He looks around and notes several things.

1) It’s the middle of summer and it’s over 35 degrees Celsius [95 degrees Fahrenheit] in the kitchen.

2) His crotch and rear have been within three feet of a 180+ degrees Celsius [356+ degrees Fahrenheit] grill for several hours.

3) The managers on duty are all either doing office work or customer facing, and can’t see him.

4) His ex can only see him from the neck up, due to how the kitchen is built.

My friend then decides that his ex’s order needs some extra sauce. He proceeds to work his hands down his pants and, after a bit of wiggling, brings from the depths of his crotch enough sweat to drip it onto first the ex’s and then the new boyfriend’s burgers before sending them and wandering off to wash his hands. Throughout all of this, I have neither intervened (because she did kind of deserve it) or assisted (because I didn’t want “sweat sandwich” as my dismissal reason), but I have kept a straight face and so has he. His ex doesn’t realise something is up, and once she gets her food, she looks at him again and smirks before wandering off to sit down.

At this point, I fulfil my obligations as a normal human and tell him he’s a maniac, he laughs it off, and we carry on about our business, stopping briefly to watch his ex and her new boyfriend leave the store.

Other mutual friends and coworkers of ours inform me that this event repeated on no less than five other occasions over the next four weeks, so the two of them got quite the dosage over time.

So far as I know, she never discovered that she ate a diet very high in ball sweat for several weeks, but it’s remained an amusing story within our friend group for the better part of a decade now.

The lesson to be drawn from this is: don’t go rubbing things in the face of someone who’s making your food. Who knows what “extra ingredients” you might end up with?

The guy is a prison warden now; God help the inmates.

Putting The Poo Into Pool

, , , , | Right | March 20, 2018

(I am a front desk employee at [Hotel]. We have just closed down the pool for cleaning, because some kid defecated in it. A lady comes up, dragging her kid behind her.)

Customer: “Where is the pool? I had it booked for noon to one.”

Me: “The pool is closed, ma’am. We have to clean it.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I want to swim!”

Me: “I am sorry, but we cannot let anyone in the pool right now.”

Customer: “But it is empty! You must have cleared them out so I can swim!”

Me: “No, ma’am, no one is allowed in right now.”

Customer: “I know! Why do you think I s*** in it in the first place?”

(Security eventually had to escort the lady out, and she is now banned from all [Hotel] properties.)

Within Spitting Distance Of Coincidence

, , , , | Working | March 12, 2018

(My brother and I go to a theme park. The first ride my brother chooses to go on is this high-altitude ride that flip-flops back and forth. I chicken out and wait to the side for him. As the ride ends and people start filtering out, a guy walks past me with his girlfriend. He’s rubbing his face angrily as he speaks to his girlfriend.)

Guy: “Somebody’s glob of spit slapped me right in the face!”

(I think, “That sucks!” Then my brother comes out. He’s all smiles.)

Brother: “Oh, man, that was amazing! I was laughing so hard, a huge wad of spit came flying out of my mouth!”

(I burst out laughing. To this day, I am still amazed by the sheer coincidence of this interaction.)

On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 15

, , , , , , | Healthy | March 10, 2018

(I am a brand new EMT; I’ve had my license less than six months. I am working for a non-emergency transport service that specializes in psych patients. I go to a hospital to pick up a patient going to a mental health facility for a court-mandated 72-hour hold. The nurse advises me that the patient tried to overdose on some pills after a family crisis, but has been calm and cooperative since being in the ER. My partner and I introduce ourselves to the patient, get her on the stretcher, and load her into the ambulance. I begin to assess her.)

Me: “Do you have any pain anywhere?”

Patient: “Yeah, my stomach is hurting from my cycle. Can you give me anything for that?”

Me: “No, ma’am. I’m sorry, but I cannot give medications.” *pain medication is not within my scope of practice*

(I finish my assessment and start on my patient care report. All the while, the patient continues to complain about her pain. I advise her that I will tell the receiving facility about it as soon as we get there so the doctor can give her something, but in the meantime I get a heat pack out of the cabinet and give it to her with a towel. At about the halfway point of a two-hour trip, the patient announces that she has to use the restroom.)

Patient: “I have real bad diarrhea and I need to go now.”

Me: “Well, I don’t have a bedpan, and we cannot stop, so I need you to hold it.”

Patient: “I can’t hold it.”

Me: *to partner* “Hey, we are in [Town], right? I need you to divert to [Hospital] so I can take her into the ER. She needs to use the bathroom.”

Partner: “Can’t she hold it?”

Me: “She said no, and I would rather not have to deal with the smell.”

Partner: “Okay.”

(We get another five minutes down the road and the patient manages to slip out of all restraints and stands up.)

Me: “Ma’am, I need you to sit on the stretcher and put your seatbelts back on. If we were to get in a wreck or if my partner made a sharp turn you could be hurt.”

Patient: “I can’t hold it anymore. I’m going to s*** my pants.” *begins to undo her pants*

Me: *to partner* “Hey, pull over. She is off of the stretcher and she is about to s*** on the floor.”

Partner: “What?! Put a sheet down first.”

(As I put a sheet down I plead with the patient to reconsider, to no avail. The patient proceeds to force herself to defecate, urinate, and menstruate on the sheet. She does not have diarrhea and definitely could have held it. After the patient finishes, she uses her clothes to wipe herself and sits back down, half-naked, on my stretcher. I cover her with a sheet, re-secure her belts, turn on the exhaust fan, and try not to breath any more than absolutely necessary.)

Me: *to partner* “Hey, I need you to get there fast; I can’t take this.”

(For the next thirty minutes, the patient sits silently on the stretcher. When she realizes her previous attempt for pain meds was unsuccessful, she decides to up the ante.)

Patient: “My stomach is still hurting so bad. Can you please give something now?”

Me: “No. Like I said before, I can’t give pain medications.”

(The patient goes on a rant for several minutes before becoming silent again. Just when I think we might get to the destination without further excitement, the patient puts her fingers in her mouth and causes herself to vomit all over the floor.)

Me: “Seriously? What makes you think this is helping your cause?”

Patient: “Why don’t you just give me something for pain?”

Me: “I am an EMT basic. I can assess you, take vitals, and do CPR. Only a paramedic can give pain medications, and they still would not give you any, because menstrual cramps don’t qualify for narcotics use.”

(The patient continues to complain, but we have no further trouble until we get to the mental health facility. The patient tries to beat up the orderly after they tell her she will have to be seen by the doctor before she can get anything for pain. As we are decontaminating the truck, my partner looks at me.)

Partner: “I have been in EMS for 12 years, and I have to say, that was a first.”

Related:
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 14
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 13
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 12

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