CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I am in a supermarket at the tills when the young woman in front of me, about to pay for her goods, suddenly freezes. She stands still and stares into space, down at her purse, which is falling out of her hands. She is standing in front of a plastic wall.)

Cashier: “Excuse me, miss? Excuse me?” *to herself* “P****.” *turns to me* “Can I put your things through? I’ll void her stuff if she’s ignoring me. Self-entitled snowflakes and their phones.”

(I look at the woman carefully and notice she has an epilepsy bracelet.)

Me: “Erm, I think she’s having a seizure.”

Cashier: *condescending, as if to a child* “No, because if she was having a seizure, she’d be on the floor, wouldn’t she?”

Me: “I’m a doctor, madam, and I’d like to get your manager.”

Cashier: “No. She’s a snowflake who’s looking at her phone instead of paying, and she’s holding up the queue.”

Me: *sternly* “Madam, I really do think she’s having a seizure. They don’t all writhe around on the floor.”

(I called the number on the bracelet and the ambulance came within a few minutes. Last I heard, the young woman was fine, but the cashier voided the woman’s shopping AND mine, saying that it was our choice to step out of the queue and that I must be joking if I thought I was getting my shopping back, even though I simply went outside to the ambulance to explain what had been going on.)

This story is part of our Epilepsy roundup.

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Read the Epilepsy roundup!

(I work for a supermarket in the home delivery department. I have spent the last week and a half acting up into a role of team support. My job is to support drivers while they are on the road, and to communicate with the customer service team regarding the status of orders. Sometimes we have orders that are “stored,” which means that, for whatever reason, payment has been unsuccessful. At these times, we call the customer to try and sort the payment out. If the customer does not answer, we leave a voicemail and arrange for an email to be sent. In very rare circumstances, customers don’t get their shopping and call customer service to find out where it is. More often than not, this is after the delivery window, and the shopping is returned to stock. This leads to the following conversation with customer service.)

Employee: “Hi there. It’s [Employee] from customer service. I’m trying to track down a customer’s order.”

(After we establish who the customer is and I explain that the order was stored, this conversation happens without fail.)

Employee: “Is there any chance if the customer pays that we could get their shopping out to them?”

Me: “No, sorry. That’s not possible; the transaction has expired and we can’t access it anymore to take payment.”

Employee: “But what if we could get them to pay? Can we get the shopping out to them?”

Me: “No. There is no possible way for them to pay; they have to reorder. The transaction has been closed; we would have no way to take payment. The shopping has been returned to stock.”

Employee: “Well, we really need to make this customer happy, so can we not take payment?”

Me: “We have no means to process that. I can’t do the impossible.”

Employee: “Well, I’ll just have to phone your store manager to confirm this.”

Me: “Uh, okay. Fine.”

(Every time, the store manager comes in and checks that 1) the transaction has expired and 2) the shopping is returned to stock, and then tells customer service this. Customer service then explains that they promised to get this shopping to the customer that day and that we need to make it happen. The manager refuses and tells customer service not to promise things like that next time. This happens far more than it should.)

(I’m on a late bus home after a hard day at work. I’m sat minding my own business, listening to “The Beatles” whilst reading a book. Sat opposite me is an older man who appears to have had a few drinks. He starts poking me in the shoulder, causing me to take out my earphone.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Man: *still poking me whilst yelling* “Will you turn that s*** off?! It’s way too loud!”

Me: “I have this at half volume and the rest of the bus is empty. If you think you can hear it, then please f*** off to another seat.”

(At this point, I put my earphone back in and try to go back to reading. He keeps poking me and I try my best to ignore it, but after two more minutes I take my earphone out again.)

Me: “What the f*** is your problem?”

Man: “I told you to stop listening to that loud rubbish, so turn it off!”

Me: “I am listening to The Beatles, and it’s not loud. If you keep touching me, I will change to heavy metal and turn it up to full blast. You have two options: f*** off and leave me alone, or I listen to Slipknot at full blast. Up to you.”

(I put my earphone in and ignore him. He moves, and all of a sudden my earphone gets ripped out of my ear. The man shoves his phone into my ear, playing some obnoxious ringtone. I grab his phone and throw it down the bus, smashing it against the back of the bus driver’s cabinet.)

Me: *yelling* “Who the f*** do you think you are? You touch me again, and it won’t be just your phone smashed into pieces!”

(The man ran to the front of the bus where the bus driver laughed at his complaint and kicked him off at the next stop.)

This story is part of our Beatles roundup!

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(It is about nine pm, and a few of us are still in the office. A colleague comes into my office to chat to me and my officemate.)

Colleague: *to my officemate* “I have nothing to do, so now I have to look up Belgian law.”

(When he says he has nothing to do, he means on the matter he is working on with my officemate, not that he has absolutely nothing to do, but I don’t realise this.)

Me: “Wait. Why are you here, then?”

Colleague: “Like I said, I wanted to take a break and chat to you guys.”

Me: “No, I mean, if you have nothing to do, why are you still in the building? You could go and do other things. I mean, you have a girlfriend.”

(There is a pause as my colleague and officemate both stare at me. It is at this point that I realise what I just said.)

Me: “Wait, that did not come out the way I meant it!”

Colleague: “No, no, I know what you meant. I should be out shagging my girlfriend just because I have a girlfriend.”

Me: “No, no, I meant, like, you could go have a romantic dinner or something.”

Colleague: “Uh-huh. Thanks for literally telling me to f*** off.”

Me: “Can I start again, please?”

Colleague: “Sure.”

Me: “[Colleague]! How great to see you! Come in, please! Distract us!”

Colleague: “Now, that’s more like it.”

(My officemate and colleague still won’t let me live that down.)

(I work for a group practice that has four different surgeries and almost twenty doctors, most of them foreign, and quite a few from India and Pakistan. Because many of our doctors have names that are nigh-unpronounceable for the very un-diverse, rural area I live in, many doctors are cool with patients calling them by their first names. However, that leads to this happening far too often:)

Patient: “Hello, I’d like to make an appointment, please.”

Me: “Sure. Do you have any particular doctor you would like to see?”

Patient: “Yeah, I usually see doctor… Mohammed?”

Me: “We have three doctors by that name. Which one would you like to see? We have [lists off the surnames].”

Patient: “Oh… I think it’s the Asian one?”

(Usually I end up giving them a random one, and I’ve never heard a complaint yet!)