(I work in the deli at a grocery store and decide to move out of state. I have lost touch with my one-time best friend because she got into drugs and I wasn’t comfortable with that. I decide to come back on vacation to see family, and I go back to the grocery store to say hi to people I used to work with. My ex-manager spots me and hurries over.)

Ex-Manager: “What is wrong with your friend?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Ex-Manager: “She put in an application, and since she put you down as a reference, we hired her.”

Me: “I haven’t seen her in about a year. What happened?”

Ex-Manager: “She said she cut herself on a slicer, but we checked the camera and she deliberately put her finger on a running blade. When we showed her the video, she said she wanted to see what would happen.”

Me: “Wow. Well, she was probably high.”

Ex-Manager: “HIGH? She did drugs?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s why we parted ways. How did she even pass the drug test?”

Ex-Manager: “I don’t know. It came back negative. You never said she was on drugs!”

Me: “Maybe you should have called when she put me down as a reference.”

Ex-Manager: “We didn’t think it was necessary, since she’s your friend.”

Me: “Then, what’s the point of asking for references if you aren’t going to use them?”

(My ex-manager kept telling me I should have told her about the friend’s drug problem and couldn’t understand why I didn’t magically know she was trying to get a job there.)

(My older sister calls, and we chat and catch up. I’m a first-year medical student; she’s an archaeologist.)

Sister: “Hey, [My Name]! How’ve you been?”

Me: “Pretty good! We just got a new round of dissection cadavers in, so the anatomy professor is super excited. His interest in cadavers would be really macabre if he wasn’t such a sweet, fuzzy little thing!”

Sister: “I remember you introducing me to him; he was really nice. Classes are going well?”

Me: “Yep, no problems so far. Oh, did I tell you I got that scholarship? It’s great; it’ll cover all of my tuition, plus medical insurance!”

Sister: “Dude, that’s frickin’ awesome! You should have opened with that! Instead, you opened with cadavers. Getting money is way better!”

Me: *laughing* “Fair enough! So, how’s your dig going?”

Sister: “Going great! We found the southern end of the foundation and a third body! The burial is really unique; we think the people might have come north and settled there because…”

(She spends the next ten minutes describing the site they’ve been excavating. After describing what makes the burial unique in exhaustive detail…)

Sister: “Oh, and did I tell you I got a promotion and a raise?”

(I couldn’t help it; I just started laughing hysterically. After stopping and thinking about it, she joined in. Nice to know we’re more alike than we thought!)

(I have been working at this supermarket for years and have encountered this woman on a weekly basis. As a store, we have a policy: hot chickens are available from four pm to seven pm, guaranteed. If we don’t have one available, you get a free coupon for your next chicken. This woman arrives at my counter at 3:30, prior to me placing out the hot chickens.)

Customer: “So, are your hot chickens out yet?”

Me: “Not yet, ma’am, about another ten minutes and they’ll be done.”

Customer: “But your guarantee is four to seven.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, they’ll be done by then.”

(She leaves shortly before I place the chickens out, hot and ready for four pm. She doesn’t buy one. Hours go by. Now it’s around 6:30. I spot the woman waiting behind one of the counters, watching me cook. I still have about six chickens, but only of one kind as the other flavors have been purchased. She comes over.)

Customer: “I want a seasoned chicken; where are they?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we’ve run out. I still have originals, though!”

(I show her the six we have on hand.)

Customer: “But I wanted seasoned. They are guaranteed. Can I get a free coupon?”

Me: “No, ma’am, the guarantee is under the assumption we don’t have any left at all. If we still have chickens in the case, it’s not valid.”

(She storms off and doesn’t buy a chicken. I don’t see this woman again for a couple of weeks. While working and having a rather busy day, I note that we thankfully only have two chickens available at close to seven pm. We usually have too many and have to chill them overnight for people to buy cold for a discount the next day. I am preparing my cases to break down and clean when the woman arrives.)

Customer: “Are these the only two chickens left?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am! They’re our new flavor, too. If you’d like, I can put a dollar-off sticker on them for it being so late.”

Customer: “But I wanted three chickens. You guarantee chickens until seven pm. I needed three and you only have two. I’d like a free chicken coupon.”

Me: “No, ma’am, I can’t give you one. If I had no chickens available for you, then you could have one, but I have two here. As long as you’re able to get a chicken, it doesn’t count.”

(She called a manager on me, but it didn’t work and she left. Apparently, up front she’s notorious for returning the chickens or other products as defective and getting the “double your money back” policy. She still shows up every now and again to harass my new employees.)

(I work the front desk in a highly recommended vet hospital that has both appointments with doctors and a walk-in emergency service. Emergency visits are always a trip. A young man walks in, carrying his dachshund mix. He tells me that his dog is having respiratory distress, so I take her back to see the doctor first before getting his information. It turns out that the dog has been having breathing troubles for two days. The doctor is not impressed with that info and, with client approval, takes some x-rays to see what might be going on internally. It’s cancer, a lot of cancer in all of the places. The dog is not comfortable outside of oxygen, so the vet goes to talk to the owner to explain that euthanasia is the only humane option. By this point, the owner’s father has come to join him and has brought his own dog. He is handling the dog very roughly and occasionally whacks the dog lightly with the end of the leash when he thinks the dog is misbehaving.)

Father: “Vets just want to take your money! Don’t worry, [Dog], they’re not going to see you. This is where dogs come to die.”

(He is making other clients uncomfortable, so I warn the ER doctor as she goes in to speak with them. The client is understandably shocked and upset, but the father is whole other matter.)

Father: “We’re not ready to put her down yet. Can you give us meds to keep her comfortable for another week?”

Vet: “Sir, she isn’t comfortable at all outside of oxygen. It would be against medical advice to take her out of oxygen and take her home.”

Father: “I’ll take her out of oxygen if I want to! It’s not like she’s suffering!”

(The vet was literally so angry she had to leave the room because yes, this dog was suffering! The father continued to be resistant, but the client agreed that it was in her best interest to euthanize her immediately, and handled the rest of the visit like a rational adult.)

Me: “[Lawyer]’s office. How can I direct your call?”

Caller: “Is [Lawyer] available?”

Me: “He’s with clients right now. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I need to talk to him.”

Me: “I can give him a message, but he won’t be available for a few hours.”

Caller: “Fine, leave a message for him. This is [Caller]. Tell him I want to talk to him about him trespassing on my property!”

Me: “Um, okay. I’ll be sure to give him the message.”

(Thirty minutes later when I answer the phone:)

Caller: “Did you give him my message?”

Me: “No, sir, he is still with clients. I will let him know you called as soon as he has finished.”

Caller: “I want to leave another message. You tell him that he can either talk to me, or he can talk to the sheriff if he doesn’t call me.”

Me: *sigh* “Yes, sir. I will give him the message. However, it will likely be a few more hours before he is even finished with his clients.”

Caller: “You tell him what I said.”

(An hour later, when I answer:)

Sheriff: “This Is [Sheriff]. Is [Lawyer] available?”

Me: “Is this concerning [Caller]?”

Sheriff: “It is.”

Me: “I apologize, sir. He is not going to be available for a few hours more. As I told [Caller], he won’t be able to call back until he has finished with his current clients.”

Sheriff: “Can you tell [Lawyer] to call me today as soon as he is available?”

Me: “Yes, I will. Does this mean that Mr. [Caller] is not going to be calling us anymore?”

Sheriff: “I can’t promise that he won’t call back, but hopefully this will have calmed down his need to talk to [Lawyer].”

(Two hours later, the lawyer finally finishes with his client, and I flag him down to explain the situation. He instantly groans and starts laughing.)

Lawyer: “Did he really call the police on me? I can’t believe him. I went on his property to talk with his wife about some different property that she was selling. He was angry that I was there to even talk with her, because his name isn’t on the property for sale, so he won’t get any of the money. He called the office twice last night and left a message to complain about me going over there to seduce her and claimed that she was completely upset with my even being there. She was the one that invited me over to talk about selling the land to me! What a jerk!”