I went in for an outpatient procedure to have a uterine ablation. They were getting me ready for the procedure, and had already given me the stuff to make me sleepy. I asked if I could use the bathroom first. I started to get sleepy and asked again to use the bathroom.
“You’re all done. We just finished the surgery.”
It was the weirdest feeling! I literally blinked and it was over!
(Most of my job is answering and directing calls to two different sides of an office. Anytime I get a call, I have to put the current person on hold to take the other line. We have one person who calls repeatedly for a secretary — whom I’ll call Jane — and won’t take no for an answer.)
Me: “Thank you for calling [Office]. How can I direct your call?
Caller: “I need to speak with Jane.”
Me: “Jane isn’t in today; may I take a message for her?”
Caller: *click*
(Three minutes later, I get a call from a client that requires a much longer call, but I am forced to interrupt them to answer the other line.)
Me: “Thank you for calling [Office]. How can I direct your call?”
Caller: “I need Jane.”
Me: “Jane isn’t in today. Can I take a message?”
Caller: “No. I just need to talk to Jane.”
Me: “Jane won’t be in for the rest of the week. I can give her a message and inform her you called when she’s in on Monday.”
Caller: “No.” *click*
Me: *going back to first line* “I apologize, Mr. [Caller #2]. You were telling me— Hold, please.” *going back to the second line* “Good afternoon—”
Caller: “Is Jane in?”
Me: “No, she won’t be in until Monday. If you gave me a name, I could tell her to call you instead of you needing to call up here.”
Caller: “No.” *click*
(Five minutes later.)
Me: “Thank you for calling [Office]. How can I direct your call?”
Caller: “I need Jane.”
Me: “Did you call a few minutes ago?”
Caller: “Yes. I need Jane. Is Jane in?”
Me: “And you called a few minutes before that?”
Caller: “Yes. I need to talk to Jane! Now!”
Me: “Jane isn’t in until Monday.”
Caller: *click*
(Ten minutes later.)
Me: “Thank you for—”
Caller: “Is Jane in?”
Me: *recognizing the voice* “Oh… You want Jane? One moment.”
(I put him on hold and go back to the call I was in before. The person holds for maybe five minutes before calling again.)
Me: “Thank you for—”
Caller: “Yeah, I called for Jane, and you put me on hold for her. Did you hang up on me? I didn’t get through to her.”
Me: “That’s because Jane won’t be here until Monday. Call as many times as you like, but all you do is annoy me. She’s not here. She won’t magically appear. She will not be here until Monday. Please do not call again!”
Caller: “You’re so rude. All you had to say was she wasn’t there.”
(It’s late at night and my shift ends in ten minutes. My managers have been harping on me all evening to get a credit application, so when I see this family, I think I might finally have a chance to convince them to apply. The man is middle-aged and his wife and son are looking at a new leather recliner that seats two. As I’m walking up to them, I hear the wife mention how much she likes the chair, and the man is taking pictures of her and their son sitting on it.)
Man: *to me* “Hey, come on over and join us. This chair looks awesome.”
(I cheerfully step up as he gestures for me to join the picture, thinking I really might get a credit app with this one. I crouch in front of the seat.)
Man: “No, no, no. On the seat with them.”
Son: “Dad, no. Don’t make her do anything weird.”
Me: *half-hearted chuckle* “Thank you, sir. But I prefer here. Now, if you really like this chair, I can save you…”
(I’m unable to finish as this man, three times my size — because I’m tiny — lumbers toward me, scoops me up by my underarms like a child, and proceeds to throw me into the air onto his wife and son who have to catch me. He then snaps back and starts taking pictures while his wife half laughs and half berates him. The son is apologizing and blushing like mad.)
Son: “Dad, you can’t just do that to people.”
Wife: “You shouldn’t have done that! She may have the store call the cops. You just accosted this poor girl! I am so sorry about him. Are you okay?”
(I shakily slide off the chair and nod, trying to find my bearings.)
Man: “She’s fine. We New Yorkers are like that, just having some fun. Right?”
(I force a smile at him and mutter that it’s the most interesting night since I started working at the store.)
Man: “See? She’s fine. All good.”
(He started walking away, muttering about what to look at next, and the wife and son apologized again before following him. At that point, I didn’t care anymore about credit applications. I ran to my manager, who laughed about and said there was nothing that could be done since I didn’t get hurt. I was so glad to be going home then.)
Related:
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 16
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 15
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 14
(I work in a pet shop. The days I work, I’m usually alone. I’m one of the only ones who can clip birds’ nails and wings, so people usually call on the days I work. In the morning, I clean all of the bird cages, and around 4:30 pm, I clean the babies’ cages again before we close. Because of this schedule, we usually ask customers to come in sometime between 12:00 pm and 4:30 pm to have their birds clipped, and also to call first so we have a heads up.)
Customer: *on the phone* “Can I bring my bird in to be clipped today?”
Me: “What kind of bird is it?”
(I ask this because larger birds like macaws are hard for me to do alone.)
Customer: “A Quaker.” *a small bird*
Me: “Sure. If you could come in sometime after noon, but before 4:30, that’d be great.”
Customer: “Uh, noon? I need an appointment?”
Me: “I’m the only one here, and I’m cleaning the birds’ cages right now, and I won’t have everything done until probably noon. At 4:30, I start cleaning the babies’ cages again, so it would be best if you could come in before then.”
Customer: “Uh…” *seems really confused* “Come in after 4:30?”
Me: “No, before 4:30. I have to take care of the babies at 4:30, so it’s better if you come in before that.”
Customer: “So, come in before 12:00?”
Me: “No, after. If you could come in sometime between 12:00 and 4:30 that would be best.”
Customer: “So, 4:30…”
Me: “How about 2:00? Why don’t you come in at 2:00?”
Customer: “Yeah, 2:00 would be better for me.”
(I hate talking on the phone.)
(While I’m in college, I waitress at a dine-in movie theater. One evening, I have a couple of teenage boys in my section. Because they’re sitting weirdly far apart and keep exchanging nervous glances, I ping them as an adorable couple, albeit one that hasn’t spent much time together in public, as this is in a conservative state.)
Me: “Hi, I’m [My Name], and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you anything to drink while you look over our menu?”
Boy #1: “I’ll take a root beer.”
Boy #2: “[Soda], please.”
Me: “And will that be together or separate?”
(Both freeze slightly, but [Boy #2] reaches over and takes [Boy #1]’s hand.)
Boy #2: “To… together. We’re together.”
Me: *deliberately nonchalantly* “I just need to know if you’re getting separate checks.”
(Both visibly relax and move closer to each other.)
Boy #2: “One check, please. He paid for the tickets, so I’m getting dinner.”
Me: “Solid plan. We’ll have those drinks right out for you.”
(I make sure to go above and beyond with them, and each time I see them, they look more comfortable. By the time I go to cash them out, [Boy #1] is curled up on the seat with his head in [Boy #2]’s lap.)
Boy #2: *signs credit card slip and returns it* “Hey, miss? You were excellent. Thank you.”
Me: “Are you kidding? You’re the cutest couple I’ve ever seen. You made my night. Possibly my week. Enjoy the show.”
(Three years later, I still randomly think about the Extremely Cute Couple, and I hope they’re still together.)
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