(When I am 22, I go to the dentist about wisdom teeth. It is clear I have to have them removed. As it is a one-day thing: it pretty much means to be there at 7:30 am, operation at 9:00 am, out of the operation room at 10:00 am, gone at 6:00 pm. That morning, I drive to the clinic and once arrived, call my mother to prepare our meeting (so she would ride the bus in the afternoon to the clinic and then, drive me back to home with my car). I check myself in, go to my room, change into a hospital gown, and wait. It is now almost 9:00.)

Nurse: “Here’s a pill for you. It’s for relaxing, so you’ll be perfectly well to go to the operation room. Take it in about 15 minutes, and then we’ll come right after that and get you.”

(I thank her, wait, take the pill, and wait a little more… feeling nice and sleepy… I wake up, a little groggy, but my mouth is not sore at all… and my mother is there, sitting right next to my bed.)

Me: “Hey, Mom.”

Mom: “Are you okay?”

Me: “Yes, I’m fine. I’m glad you’re here, though you’re early. You’ll have to wait a long time for the operation to be done.”

Mom: “Isn’t it done?”

Me: “Of course not. A nurse gave me a pill, said I needed to relax, and then I passed out.”

(Then, remembering my mom had important things to do that morning, and that she couldn’t have changed her plans, I realize something and get a little angry.)

Me: “What time is it, Mom?”

Mom: “It’s 3:50 pm.”

Me: *now quite cross* “I’m here since eight and a half hours? And nobody came?”

Mom: “I’m waiting here for an hour, and I didn’t see any nurse.”

(Basically, since it was that late, that means that if I go to surgery at that moment, I have to spend the night at the clinic – and pay for it, which isn’t planned or possible at all. I am boiling, but I accept waiting a half-hour more. Then, since nothing happens…)

Me: “Give me my clothes, Mom. I’m out of here.”

Mom: “Are you sure? Maybe we should tell them about it.”

Me: “You know I’m a very sound sleeper, but nobody came to try to wake me up to tell me they were going to be late. Let’s just go.”

(Right on cue, while I’m putting my pants on, the nurse enters my room.)

Nurse: “But… what are you doing?”

Me: “I’m going out.”

Nurse: “But… you can’t. The operation—”

Me: “—was supposed to be done by now. I can’t afford a room for the night. If there was just a planning screw-up, I could understand. For any reason given, I should have waited longer, even if eight hours late is a little bit too much. But since no one even came to my room to inform me about it, I don’t see why I should be more patient and pay for it. Now, what happened?”

Nurse: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Was the surgeon late? Was he sick? Did he have car trouble? Was it the anaesthetist?”

Nurse: “I can’t tell you.”

Me: “Then, I’m truly sorry, but that just confirms my decision.”

Nurse: “I’ll have to tell the doctor.”

Me: “Please do. I’m leaving.”

(So I went back to my car, drove my mom to her place, and went home. The surgeon never bothered to explain me what happened that day but was apparently so angry at me that he refused to give back my x-ray photos to my mother as a kind of a lame punishment! A few months later, I did other x-ray pictures and went one morning to another clinic with my sister Both of us went through the same operation only one hour apart, woke up in the same room, stayed there a few hours, and were back to home before sunset. Talk about efficiency!)

(My husband and I have are going through the drive-thru and he orders the chain’s bacon cheese fries while I request no ice in my drink. Upon pulling up, I’m given a drink with ice.)

Me: “Excuse me; I’m sorry, but I asked for no ice in my drink.”

Employee: “I’m sorry; let me fix that for you.”

(She passes out the new cup and our food and we start to drive off, only for my husband to discover his fries were thrown haphazardly into the bag and there is now melted cheese getting on everything, so we pull into the parking lot to go in.)

Me: *showing another employee the bag* “I hate to be a bother but we could we possibly get a replacement? There’s now more cheese on the boxes and the bag than there is on the fries.”

Employee: “Oh, yeah, that’s a pretty big mess! Sorry about that. Let me get you a new one and repackage your order.”

(We wait patiently and are given a new bag with repackaged food. Happy, we leave to head home and are on the highway.)

Me: “You know, I just remembered something…”

Husband: “What?”

Me: “They repackaged your burger and fries… but my curly fries were also in the bag… did they put them back into the new one?”

Husband: *checking* “No… no, they didn’t.”

(By that point, it simply wasn’t worth going back.)

(I’m on break at work, watching my coworker grab drink cups from the stock room. She takes the last sleeve out of the box and proceeds to dropkick the empty box across the room. I laugh.)

Me: “Nice.”

Coworker: “It’s even better if you do it around the corner and aim for the dumpster. Then it’s like really douchey basketball.”

(I am heading back home after a business training which lasted most of the week and consisted of hour upon hours of classroom training on accounting and tax. Needless to say i am exhausted and just want to get home. It should be noted that I am in the aisle seat with two other passengers to my right (middle and window). Everyone has boarded the flight and we are taxiing out to the runway when we hear this announcement.)

Pilot: “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. I have been informed that there is a discrepancy between our physical passenger count and the count at the gate. We are going to hold here until everything is resolved.”

(30 minutes later.)

Pilot: “I apologize for the delay we are still trying to sort out the difference.”

(30 minutes later.)

Pilot: “Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize, but we still can’t figure out the issue. We are going to taxi back to the gate to get everything sorted.”

(We arrive back at the gate and more attendants arrive and sort out the issue. This takes another 30 minutes. Finally everything is sorted and we think we can leave when…)

Pilot: “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Unfortunately because we taxied out to the runway and back both your co-pilot and myself will be over the FAA allotted flight hours. As a result we can not fly the plane. A replacement crew is flying in on another flight and should be here in about an hour or so.”

Middle: “Wait, what did he just say?”

Window: *looking at me* “You tell him. He’s bigger than me.”

Me: “The pilot can’t fly the plane due to us taxiing out and back.”

Middle: “Oh, you have to be f****** kidding me!”

(Just then the head flight attendant makes an announcement that if we would like we can de-plane, but if we do we can’t come back on until the pilots arrive. A few people elect to do this, I elect to stay as do the members in my row. We chat and after about 15 minutes.)

Middle: “F*** this, I need a beer.”

(He heads back and comes back with a beer.)

Me: “They charge you for that?”

Middle: “Nope, flight attendant just asked me what I wanted.”

(I head back to grab one myself. The flight attendant is talking with several other passengers. I grab my beer and head back. After another hour and a half the pilots finally arrive and the plane gets underway. Most of the passengers are in a good mood due to the flight attendants ensuring their comfort and ample supply of free booze. The final kick in the pants came after I received an e-mail from the airline after filing a complaint. It was a half hearted apology and a $25 gift card.)

(Last year, we on the maintenance staff had a coworker who got on everyone’s nerves. He would not listen to the supervisors, did things his own way, and sometimes did weird and random things that, when combined with his attitude, made us genuinely concerned about his mental stability. Somehow he managed to last six months because the timing of his shifts rarely crossed over with our boss, so he rarely pissed off the boss personally. One day, he is scheduled for a 6:00-12:30 evening shift, but when 7:00 arrives and he hasn’t shown up, Supervisor #1 marks him as a no-show. He finally shows up around 9:00.)

Coworker: “Hey, I can’t stay and work the whole night. I have to leave at 11:30.”

(This is not the first time he has taken it upon himself to decide whether or not he should work when he’s scheduled.)

Supervisor #1: “I don’t think so. You’re already late; I marked you as a no-show an hour after you were supposed to start.”

Coworker: “You can’t mark me as a no-show! I’m here! I showed up!”

(He starts working while Supervisor #1 calls Boss.)

Supervisor #1: “[Boss] wants to see you in his office tomorrow morning.”

Coworker: “Oh, tomorrow doesn’t work for me. Tell him it has to wait until Tuesday.”

(It is Tuesday. He’s saying he’s not going to show up in the office until next week even though he’ll be working other shifts in between. Come Tuesday, it has been agreed that Coworker will meet with the boss at 5:00 pm, shortly before Boss has to go to his other job. I arrive around 5:30 so I can eat before my own 6:00-12:30 shift. Around 5:45, Boss enters in a bad mood and punches out.)

Boss: *to [Supervisor #2], who is in the break room with me* “When [Coworker] gets here, tell him he’s fired.”

(I do an internal happy dance, and around 7:00, I overhear this:)

Coworker: *to Supervisor #2* “He can’t do this! I couldn’t come in at five! I had to eat first! I’m going to the labour board!”

(I have no idea if he actually went through with it, but I never heard from him again. There’s no way the labour board would take the side of someone who couldn’t be bothered to go to work on time and STOOD UP HIS BOSS instead of just having supper later.)