If You Want To Stay Sick, Just Cough

, , | Healthy | January 18, 2019

(Over the festive season, I had become quite ill for a period of about three-four weeks. I visited my doctor, received medication, and got better; then my partner became ill and I became ill AGAIN three days later and had to go back to my doctor. I visited two different doctors working in the same center. Unfortunately, my visits with them have left me a bit… surprised. On my first visit, my doctor is very young, seems a bit spacey, and is new to this practice. My medical aid receipts show her visits are charged at less than half the rate of your standard doctor’s visit, so I am a bit wary. My previous doctor was INCREDIBLE, but had just emigrated overseas, and this is her new replacement that I was referred to.)

Doctor: “So, what seems to be the problem today?”

Me: “I have [symptoms], but I’m most worried about my cough. I’m coughing to the point that I’m crumpled on the floor, until I can’t breathe, and I’m basically just vomiting air.” *I indicate to my ribs* “It’s so bad that my ribs feel bruised from coughing so hard.”

Doctor: “Hmm… All right, I’m going to prescribe you some antibiotics, and some of this [gastro medicine] for your stomach problem.”

Me: “Wait, what? What stomach problem?”

Doctor: “You pointed to your stomach and said it hurts, so I’m giving you [gastro medicine]!”

Me: “I said my ribs are bruised… from the coughing? My stomach is perfectly fine, but I’m really worried about this cough. It doesn’t feel normal.”

Doctor: “Oh… okay, then. You don’t need this. Instead, I’ll give you this.”

(He highlights the cheapest and most generic brand of cough syrup on the market, that I’ve already finished two of in the days leading up to my visit. The next doctor’s visit is almost two weeks later, with a different doctor in the same center. I’ve bought myself generic over-the-counter cough medicine up until I could visit the doctor again. I wait over half an hour for my appointment, by which time their offices should be closed, before I’m called in. At this stage, my cough has returned, and I have hurt my wrist, as it hurts when I put pressure on it.)

Doctor #2: “How can I help you today?”

Me: *explains all my symptoms again* “—and I appear to have hurt my wrist. It hurts when I apply pressure; I’m worried it might be sprained.”

Doctor #2: “Well, that’s simple. Just don’t apply pressure to it, then!”

Me: “All right? And for my cough? It’s really getting worse, and none of my medicine seems to work.”

Doctor #2: *puts a bottle of a smaller version of the cheapest generic cough medicine on the counter* “You can take this.”

Me: “Um… I’ve had basically four bottles of this in the last three weeks, and it hasn’t worked. I even have a bottle of this in my bag still. Do you not have anything more specialized, for a deep cough like this? My throat is now raw, I still struggle to breathe because it hurts, and my rib area is still bruised.”

Doctor #2: *huge smile* “Nope! It’s just for symptomatic relief, anyway. This will be fine!”

(I’m still sick, my wrist is still injured, and I’m moving on to my fifth bottle of cough syrup. I’m planning on finding a new doctor soon. For those concerned, the cough syrup is very generic, suitable for toddlers, with no codeine or DXM in it.)

Be Our Guest, But Not Online

, , , | Working | January 6, 2019

(The restaurant I’m at has four available Wi-Fi hotspots: [Restaurant] guest, [Restaurant] guest 2, [Restaurant] staff, and [Restaurant] management. They all require a password to log in.)

Me: “Can I have the Wi-Fi password?”

Waiter: “Sorry, it’s only for staff.”

Me: “What about the one called ‘guest’?”

Waiter: “That’s for the staff.”

Me: “And ‘guest 2’?”

Waiter: “That’s for the managers.”

(I asked another waiter and got the password.)

Unfiltered Story #135066

, , , | Unfiltered | December 26, 2018

Guests came in and ordered drinks, then did not want to pay for them as my waiter decanted them into a glass. They reordered even when I made it clear they would still be paying for the first one – she “couldn’t drink it out of a glass”???

I offered to pour it back into the bottle but that also was not acceptable “because it had already been in the glass”.

They were then joined by another 2 “ladies” whose attire did not leave much to the imagination and proceeded to start shouting and screaming at each other.

I asked them to leave which they did and then proceeded to carry on fighting outside in the street.

Back Up The Backup Of The Backup’s Backup

, , , , | Working | November 1, 2018

(My brother’s external hard drive has crashed/malfunctioned. We take it back into the store to see if they can repair it, recover the data, or get a refund. This is before cloud storage is a common, affordable backup option.)

Brother: “This hard drive isn’t working anymore, and I was wondering if you could fix it or recover the data I had stored on it.”

Salesperson: “We’ll see what we can do, but remember, you should always have a backup of your data!”

Brother: “Well, this was my backup of the information stored on my computer.”

Salesperson: “Yes, well, you should always have a backup just in case!”

Brother: *to me* “Does she expect everyone to have a never-ending chain of backup hard drives for their backup hard drives?”

(Luckily, despite not being able to repair it, the store issued us a refund and let us keep the drive. We found someone else to extract the data from it!)

Christianity Is Still Transitioning

, , , , , | Right | October 28, 2018

(I’m a 21-year-old transgirl living in Cape Town, and I work for a chain store as a cashier. In every aspect, I look like a typical brunette white girl, except for my voice, which is somewhat deeper and far more raspy. I can’t change it much, no matter how much I’ve tried. Because of often negative opinions on LGBT people in South Africa, I keep it to myself. I know English, Swedish, and Afrikaans.)

Me: “Hoe gaan dit met jou?”

Customer: “I don’t speak that!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am!”

Customer: “Are… are you futa?”

(“Futa” is short for “futanari,” a type of Japanese chick-with-a-d*** porn.)

Me: “No, I’m not.”

Customer: “Why your voice so deep, then?”

Me: “Laryngitis as a girl, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, I think you are futa. You are boy!”

(My female Xhosa coworker comes over.)

Coworker: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes! Why this boy look like a girl?”

Coworker: “Because she is a girl.”

Customer: “Humph!”

Me: “Have a great day!”

Customer: “Bye, [trans slur]. And f*** you, you [racial slur]! I’m a Christian! F*** you! God hates you!” *storms off*

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