I work for a fast food chain restaurant. All of our chairs are bolted to the floor. All of them.

One woman got upset with something about her order. Honestly, we did mess it up. We tried to offer to make it right, but she kept shouting over us.

Then, she left.

She returned carrying a plastic lawn chair, which she threw over the counter and into the kitchen area. The chair basically exploded on impact. It broke the glass on the hotbox, and some of it landed in the fryer and promptly started melting into the fry oil.

Then, she left again.

We managed to get a cell phone picture of her, and we have put her on the Do Not Serve list. We also informed the police, but they said it was unlikely they could do much with just a name, a description of a car without a license plate number, and a grainy cell phone picture.

We have no idea where she got the chair from.

Related:
On The Need For (Bio)Hazard Pay
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 34
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 33
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 32
On The Need For Hazard Pay, Part 31

CONTENT WARNING: Animal Cruelty

A guy I had been on a few dates with came over to my house to meet my pets. We hung out for a few hours, but one way or another, things got heated. We disagreed on a key issue, abortion — I am pro-choice — and began arguing loudly and vehemently. I was about to take the high road and agree to disagree for the sake of ending the argument, but he escalated things.

He grabbed my cat, who had been sitting on the couch, and threw her at the wall, shouting that if I had such disregard for human life, then a cat’s life didn’t mean anything to me, either. I was livid and chased him from the house, screaming. 

My cat was fine, if shaken, but something like that is a surefire way to ensure the end of any communication.

There’s a series of well-publicised national railway strikes happening in Britain at the moment.

The local commuter railway I work for isn’t on strike, but the national infrastructure provider (signals and track maintenance) is, so we’re running a skeleton service of one train an hour between 9:00 am and 6:00 pm; we usually run four trains an hour from 6:00 am to midnight.

I’m closing my local station after the last train has left. It takes about half an hour to do the books, clean the platforms, and lock the waiting rooms and entrances and exits.

Having done all that, I lock the main entrance and walk toward the nearest bus stop — the strike means even I can’t get a train home! Then, I hear several loud bangs and the smashing of glass.

I unlock the main entrance and rush back in to see the fire exit door almost off its hinges, the window glass from it all over the floor, and a woman using a fire extinguisher to try to break the lock off the doors to the platforms.

Me: “What the f***?! What on Earth do you think you’re doing?!”

Woman: “Finally! I thought you were hiding from me. The doors are all stuck and I’m going to miss my train!”

Me: “There are no trains. There’s a strike on. We’ve got posters up. What have you done? You’ve wrecked the joint!”

Woman: “I know there’s a strike! But my train is at 6:30 and the doors were stuck! Why didn’t you come to help me?”

Me: “The trains are off. There’s a strike. The doors were locked, you mad… The doors were locked. What have you done to the place? Look at this mess!”

Woman: “I asked on Facebook, and my friend said she knew there was a secret train at 6:30, so I’m getting that one. Why were the doors stuck?”

Me: “They were locked. The trains are off.”

Woman: “There’s a secret train at 6:30. My friend on Facebook knows about it because her son’s friend is a bus driver. Why were the doors stuck? You just want me to miss your secret train.”

Me: “There’s no secret train. Even the staff are getting buses home. You’ve caused hundreds of pounds of damage to this station. What’s wrong with you?”

Woman: “You just want to stop me from getting your secret train! It’s not my fault the doors were stuck!”

She starts bashing the platform doors with the fire extinguisher again.

Me: “That’s it! I’m calling the police!” 

Woman: “Call them! I’ll tell them that you’re stopping me from getting the secret train. I pay your wages!”

I dial 999 on my mobile phone.

Me: “Police, please.”

Woman: “Wait! Stop!”

She literally ran away through the main entrance, still carrying the fire extinguisher.

I was there for another hour cleaning up the mess, writing reports, getting copies of the CCTV, and dealing with the police. The station will probably be closed for most of tomorrow for repairs… a day when there’s no strike action.

CONTENT WARNING: Dog Attack

I worked in veterinary medicine for more than thirty-six years, and we always dealt with some real doozies!

We had a lady come in with a Chow Chow for regular vaccines. After she signed in, she sat on the bench waiting to be seen. One of my techs walked over to her with a clipboard and pen in her hands to get some information. While she stood there speaking with the woman, her dog came over — he had been straining at the leash trying to get out the door — and with no warning, not even a growl, he grabbed hold of [Tech]’s hand with his teeth and began to try and rip her arm off! He shook his head, bit harder, and dragged her to the floor!

Instead of trying to get the dog off of [Tech], the woman began screaming at us for abusing her dog as we tried to break the dog free of [Tech]’s hand. Three of us were bitten trying to get her loose!!

Instead of an apology for owning an aggressive dog and not restraining it when she came in, the woman screamed at us:

Woman: “You people had no right to attack my dog like that and it’s your own fault for walking up to my dog!”

My tech ended up with four broken bones in her hand and a massive infection that put her in the hospital for four days, and in the end, the woman actually had the nerve to file a lawsuit claiming animal abuse against our hospital. She wanted more than $25,000 in emotional distress!

We shut the hospital down on the day of the trial — there was NO WAY we were going to settle — and every staff member who had been involved was there to testify.

In the end, the woman was forced to pay all court costs and lawyer fees, the cost of the medical treatment for every person who was injured, and the cost of shutting down the hospital to come to court, and she was given a fine by Animal Control for having an aggressive dog. She was also told that should the dog ever bite someone again, not only would the dog be put down, but she could be arrested and jailed for having a known aggressive animal in her home and not properly containing it.

CONTENT WARNING: Needles

I work with drug addicts. As bloodborne viruses are common in people who inject drugs, we offer blood testing to screen for these and referrals for treatment or management if the tests come back positive.

One day, I am taking blood from one of my patients. This guy is hardcore and covered in tattoos, some done in jail. He’s been an injecting drug user for around twenty years. He’s not easy to get blood from, but I manage it. Once I’ve done that, I take off the tourniquet and pick up a piece of cotton wool to hold to the hole as I remove the needle. 

Mr. Hardcore leaps up and away from me, pulling out the needle and causing his arm to bleed all over the floor. I am momentarily stunned as he’s been totally fine up to now.

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Mr. Hardcore: “I hate cotton wool. I can’t stand the feel or the sight of it. I just had to get away from it.”

I used a folded swab instead, got the bleeding to stop, and put on a tiny round plaster.

Now, when taking blood, in addition to the usual questions about allergies to plasters or needle phobias, I always ask if people are okay with cotton wool.