A few years back, I made a website for a client who worked in security. Some weeks later, I got a call from a potential client via that site.

As it turned out, the potential client worked in security, too, and was [Original Client]’s competitor. He also had the same name as the client who I made the first website for.

Potential Client: “I found that site you made for [Original Client]. I really like it and would like you to make one like that for me, too.”

Me: “That shouldn’t be a problem. Do you already have any ideas about what you need or want?”

Potential Client: “No, no, I want a site just like the one you made for [Original Client].”

Me: “Well, since you work in the same field, with the same name, we should at least make the design clearly different.”

Potential Client: “No, I like the design. Make me one just like that. Just without the danger of confusion.”

I’m flying home out of a very large airport. The TSA line is very long, but everyone’s waiting patiently. However, the agents are screaming at everyone for the most minor things. I step up to the next agent. I’m wearing a mask as it’s very crowded.

Me: “Here’s my ID and my boarding pass. Do you need me to pull my mask—”

TSA Agent: “PULL YOUR MASK DOWN!”

I pull it down. He checks my boarding pass and hands it back. He scans my ID but doesn’t hand it back. He waves me forward.

TSA Agent: “MOVE ALONG!”

Me: “Um, you have my—”

TSA Agent: “LOAD YOUR STUFF ONTO THE BELT! NEXT!”

He’s still holding my ID while trying to take the next person’s.

Me: “Can I please—”

TSA Agent: “YOU ARE HOLDING UP THE LINE!”

Me: “SIR! MAY I PLEASE HAVE MY ID BACK?!”

He jumps, looks down, and immediately hands it back.

Me: “THANK YOU!”

TSA Agent: “Geez, no need to yell. I would’ve gotten it back to you eventually!”

I muttered something uncomplimentary under my mask and loaded my stuff onto the belt for the X-ray machine, where another TSA agent yelled at me for being too slow.

I hate flying.

I work at an airport. As an employee, I can go back through “No Reentry” exit doors with my ID, but it’s an instant firing offense to let anyone come in with me.

I was walking toward the door and saw a lady walk up to it, look huffy when it didn’t open, waved a hand at the electric eye, poked at the ID reader, etc. I paused nearby and studied my fingernails. She spotted me.

Lady: “Are you going in there?”

Me: “No, ma’am. I’m fine right here, thanks.”

Lady: “I need to go in there! I left a bag on the carousel. Open the door!”

Me: “An airline rep can escort you back—” *pointing to a distant ticket counter* “—but I’m not authorized, sorry.”

Lady: “I’m not walking all the way over there! Just open the door!”

Me: “No can do, ma’am.”

She got angrier when I smiled, and she continued ranting, but what I was smiling at was the enormous Customs officer looming up behind her. He’s a nice guy, just big as a barn door. He cleared his throat, and she spun around to find herself nose-to-chest with a wall of uniform. Her expression when he waved me on through the door while giving her a telling-off for attempting reentry to a sterile area was priceless.

I’ve only just started working at a medical office, and it’s early 2022 when the global health crisis is still in full swing. As we’re a medical office, everyone is required to wear a mask, and for the first three months that I’m working at this job (and for six months prior to that), we have a National Guard presence in our lobby to ensure that everyone is aware of the masks and being screened for symptoms. Everyone gets a mask, everyone is told to wear a mask and how to wear it properly, and there are no exceptions, no exemptions, and no tolerance at all for backtalk: if you don’t wear your mask or wear it improperly, you’re out of there.

I’m working patient checkout when a patient comes up to my desk, and I notice that he is not wearing his mask properly at all: he’s pulled it down under his chin.

Me: “I can help you right here, sir. I just need you to put your mask up over your nose, please.”

Patient: “No.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Patient: “I can’t breathe if it’s over my nose.”

Me: “You’re still required to wear the mask, sir, as was explained when you entered the building. I just need you to put it up over your nose and I can check you out and get you on your way.”

Patient: “This is ridiculous. Just check me out.”

At this point, he’s raising his voice and getting animated, and I’m getting a little flustered because I’ve only been in this job for a few weeks and haven’t had any mask pushback yet.

Me: “Sir, it’s hospital policy and a requirement at you wear your mask properly. Please just put it up over your nose.”

Patient: “Where is it a requirement?”

Me: “What?”

Patient: “Show me where it’s written that I have to wear a mask!”

Like most medical facilities, we have many, MANY signs about mask usage… but they’re all at the CHECK-IN side of the office because it’s assumed that we won’t have these arguments when someone is checking OUT. At this point, my more experienced coworker comes over to assist.

Coworker: “Sir, it’s hospital policy, it’s office policy, and it’s posted on all the signs that you passed by when you came in.”

Patient: “No! I want to see where it’s written right now!”

Coworker: “We don’t have anything at this desk, sir, but—”

Patient: “THEN IT’S NOT THE POLICY!”

This goes back and forth for several minutes, with the patient getting more upset and irate as time goes by, drawing the attention of everyone else at the office (who are all wearing masks, of course). Finally, I say:

Me: “Sir, you can go ahead and leave. I’ll check you out of your appointment and call you about any kind of follow-up if needed.”

He leaves, grumbling the whole time, and my coworkers and I talk about it, confirming that I did everything right and remained polite. I check the appointment notes and, lo and behold, he needs a follow-up appointment, so I call him and set up the appointment. I finish with:

Me: “And by the way, sir, hospital policy is that you are required to wear a mask for the entire duration of your visit to our office.”

Patient: “Yeah, yeah.”

He hangs up without any kind of fight, but given his confrontational nature, I talk it over with our building administrator and we decide to have our hospital security department on site for his next visit; it’s one thing to shout at a checkout person and another to shout at a tough-looking security person.

Six weeks later, the patient’s appointment comes up and he comes through. Security, sadly, did not get the memo properly due to a reporting glitch, but as luck would have it, I’m working the check-out desk again! The patient completes his appointment and walks toward check-out. Of course — OF COURSE — he’s not wearing his mask, having tucked it under his chin. I smile at him — even though he can’t see it — and wave at him.

Me: “I can help you right here, sir! I just need you to put your mask up over your nose, please!”

Patient: “…forget it.”

And he left! He ended up having to come back three more times, and each time, security was properly on site to enforce procedure, but the patient absolutely refused to speak to me, even if he ended up having to wait ten minutes for the next representative to help him. But he wore his mask properly from then on, and I didn’t have to deal with him anymore, so I call that a win!

Related:
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 30
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 29
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 28
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 27
An Ugly Side Of Society Has Been Unmasked, Part 26

Decades ago, I worked in technical support for a military intelligence unit. We’re talking support for software and servers running mission-critical stuff. 

Naturally, we all have a high security clearance in this unit, but some departments are more restricted than others. For the Highly Restricted departments, no one can enter unless they have been read into and signed a specific secret protection agreement. This agreement is pretty hardcore, including a restriction on which countries you can travel to for up to ten years after service.

One day around noon, we get a call from an officer who works in the department in the next building over. This is one of the Highly Restricted departments. We can do certain things related to their servers remotely, but none of us has the status to physically enter their space.

Officer: “[Highly-Classified System] isn’t working.”

Me: “Okay, I’ve run a ping to the server and it looks like it’s down. I need you to go down to your server room and press the ‘on’ button on the computer, and then let me know, and we’ll see if it gets back up.”

Officer: “No, I’m not doing that.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Officer: “You’re the technical support person. It’s lunchtime. I’m going to lunch, and when I get back, I expect this system to be back up.”

Me: “Your server room is in [Highly Secure Department].”

Officer: “Yes.”

Me: “Physically entering that department would require me to sign a secrets agreement.”

Officer: “Probably. So what?”

Me: “All I need you to do is walk down to the computer and press the button. I’m sorry, but I’m not signing a secrets agreement to go press a button on your server.”

Officer: “This is a critical system. You need to fix it.”

Me: “I agree. So, please go down to your server room and press the button.”

Officer: “No, that’s your job. Like I said, I’m going to lunch.”

I know that my commander will back me up.

Me: “And like I said, I do not have the clearance to enter your server room, and I am not signing a secrets agreement just to press a button. So, I guess call me back in an hour when you’re ready to actually get your mission-critical system back online?”

He went to press the button before going to lunch. Surprisingly, once the server was turned back on, the system worked perfectly.