(One of my co-workers is a bit of a jerk. On this occasion, however, he seems to be asking a straightforward question, so I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.)
Co-worker: “How wide are train tracks in inches?”
Me: “Well, let’s see, standard British gauge is 4 feet, 8 and a half inches; there are 48 inches in 4 feet, so that’s 56 and a half inches.”
Co-worker: “I don’t believe you!”
(I give up.)

(My grandma volunteers at a local second-hand store. She told me of this encounter with a former volunteer she had earlier this week. Volunteers aren’t allowed to price and then buy items themselves.)
Woman: Are you the only one working here?
G: Yes.
Woman: *points to the back table* I had a pot set aside on that table a few months ago. I wrote my name and number on it and no one ever called me.
G: Everything on that table was sold for Thankful Thursday.
Woman: Well, I was at Thankful Thursday and I didn’t see it!
(At this point she’s treating my grandma like she was the one responsible for the pot she had supposedly “reserved”)
Woman: I should’ve just priced it myself and taken it home the day I found it.
G: Oh really.

I have a 10:00am doctor’s appointment for a check up to get my medications renewed. I also have severe fibromyalgia, which means basically that I’m always exhausted and my body always feels like I’ve been in a car accident. My doctor says I have the most severe case he’s ever seen. I also have a wrecked back, which consists of 5 herniated discs and painful muscle spasms and degenerative disc disease. The pain gets worse from sitting or standing for prolonged periods. Unless my feet are up and I’m slightly reclined with back support, the pain just keeps ramping up. I always try to make my doctor’s appointments early in the morning so I’m not forced to wait too long and I’m hoping they’re not too backed up that early and will be seen semi-promptly so I’m not sitting there longer than necessary. I arrive at 9:55am.

There is no one else in the waiting room and I think this will be a snap and I won’t be in too much pain from waiting. 10:15 and still I’m sitting there, no one else has come in. I’m really hoping they call me soon as I can feel a twinge starting in my back. All of a sudden, a man comes barging in the door, goes up to reception.

Man: I was out working on a job and got a splinter! I need to see the doctor now! It hurts really bad! He’s breathing heavy and completely freaked out.

I’m thinking, this place is by appointment only and if it’s just a splinter, get a pair of tweezers and deal with it. To my surprise, they usher him through the door and into the back patient rooms. This is a one doctor practice, so I’m thinking, ‘great, add another 15 minutes on to my wait time because this guy just jacked my appointment. My pain is intensifying and starting to cut across my back and I can feel the muscles bunching. It’s now 10:45. I go up to the receptionist.

Me: My appointment was at 10, right? Any idea how much longer?

Receptionist: Someone came in with a splinter that the doctor needed to take care of right away. We’ll be with you as soon as we can.

Now the office is starting to fill up with people and there’s a line at reception. My anxiety is spiking from the pain and noise of the waiting room. It’s now 11:30 and I’m trying to distract myself by reading notalwaysworking on my phone. By now, my back is screaming, my hips and shoulders hurt, my neck is getting sharp pains in it and the muscles in my arms hurt so bad it’s hard to even hang on to my phone.

11:45, splinter guy comes out with some gauze wrapped around his thumb, seems completely fine now and leaves. For some reason it takes another 15 minutes for them to call me. I’ve been waiting 2 hours now and I’m starting to break out into a sweat from the pain.

Another 15 minutes waiting for the doctor to come see me while I sit in the office and I’m squirming from feeling like someone beat me across the back with a 2×4. The doctor finally comes in, spends 5 minutes with me, calls in my medications and I can finally leave.

Thank you, splinter guy, for delaying my appointment so long. I hope your poor thumb recovers. Meanwhile, I’ll be unable to move for the next two days and in extreme pain because you couldn’t handle a pair of tweezers.

As a teenager I had braces. My orthodontist, a young woman, was not friendly; she rarely explained what she was doing and would often berate me and other patients. The following situation, which happened when I was around 13, was probably the worst I encountered with her.
Orthodontist: “You don’t brush carefully enough. You have to take care of your teeth, otherwise your parents are paying this money for nothing!”
Me: “Actually I wanted to ask you about that… My gums sometimes bleed and they hurt when I brush. What would you recommend against that?”
Orthodontist (sounding annoyed): “You’re a woman! Stop complaining, you need to get used to bleeding now and again!”
Sadly I could not get a different specialist and was stuck with her for several years more. I regret not telling my parents, as they probably would have made a formal complaint and it would have been fully justified. I told my regular dentist about the issue with brushing; she said it was not uncommon and I only needed a softer toothbrush and special toothpaste. The problem went away in a matter of days; my orthodontist never even asked if I still had issues.

(My workplace is next to a pricey apartment building and we got a complaint that some small birds nesting in our trees were attacking people. I couldn’t believe people would blame US for what wildlife does. I’m not the owner and it’s not my business, but I don’t like the idea of clearing out their nest or chopping down our trees. Some people hate wildlife and expect it. What next, them crying about the spiders in our bushes crawling out and biting people? Perhaps we should complain about them always walking their dogs on our property and not cleaning after it.)