Like A Broken R-Eco-rd

| Working | January 1, 2013

(At the bank where I work, every Christmas our department collects toys for a charity drive. I’m the one who calls building maintenance to get recycle barrels to decorate for donations.)

Me: “Hi, we need three recycle barrels to collect toys for our drive.”

Building Maintenance: “I don’t think we can recycle toys.”

Me: “No, it’s for the charity drive. We just need the barrels to store the toys in until we can take them to [charity].”

Building Maintenance: “I understand, but we still can’t recycle toys.”

Me: “No, it’s a charity drive, to collect for the kids who don’t have much for Christmas.”

Building Maintenance: “I don’t think we can recycle toys.”

(I try several time to explain what we need these for and how they’ll be used, but all I get is, “We can’t recycle toys.”)

Me: “Okay, then… thanks.”

(I hang up, wait a minute, and dial him back.)

Me: “Hi! We need three recycle barrels for our floor.”

Building Maintenance: “All right! What department and what floor?”

1 Thumbs
852

The Biohazards Of Anal-ysis

| Working | December 31, 2012

(I am the hospital’s pharmacist. Occasionally, a patient is admitted to the hospital who brings in medications from home, often in a plastic baggie or other unlabeled container. One day, a nurse calls me ahead of sending down the pills.)

Nurse: “I’m sending down some pills to be identified, but they smell funny… like bad breath or poop or something.”

Me: “Uh, okay.”

(About 10 pills arrive in the pneumatic tube system. They look funny, are irregularly shaped and have no imprint codes stamped on them. The brown outer coating is sloughing off. I think they are perhaps an herbal product. When I open the baggie, the stench nearly knocks me off my feet. I put on a pair of gloves and spend a few minutes gagging, but nonetheless trying to figure out what they are. Defeated, I call the nurse back.)

Me: “Where did you say they patient got these pills from?”

Nurse: “Oh, the gastroenterologist is here, and he dug 40 of them out of the patient’s rectum.”

Me: “…Say WHAT?! Listen, for future reference, that would have been nice to know before I opened the package and nearly threw up!”

Nurse: “Consider yourself lucky: the unit secretary touched them with her bare hands!”

(The “pills” were indeed several weeks’ worth of tablets that had been the cause of the patient’s severe constipation!)

1 Thumbs
776

Dogged By Mismanagement

| Working | December 31, 2012

(I’m working the register. The shift lead is making drinks, and the manager is in the back. A woman comes in and stands in line, holding a puppy in her arms.)

Shift Lead: “Excuse me, ma’am, but it’s against health codes to bring animals inside. You’ll have to take your dog out.”

Customer: “It’s a guide dog.”

(The puppy appears to be only a few months old, and doesn’t have a guide dog vest.)

Shift Lead: “I’m sorry, your puppy isn’t wearing a vest. You’re going to have to take him outside.”

(My manager comes out from the back.)

Manager: “Ooh, look at the cute puppy!”

Me: *facepalm*

1 Thumbs
764

Maya Suggest You Keep Your Suggestions To Yourself

| Working | December 31, 2012

(My boss is lunching with one of our biggest clients. As a nice Christmas gesture, he wants to give them a gift and sends me out to see what the local winery has. Once there, I spy a four bottle box set of very nice Italian vintages and take it to the register. Note: this happens on December 21st which is slated to be a potential date for the end of the world.)

Cashier: “Oh man, you’re going for the good stuff, aren’t you? Quite a party you’ll have with these!”

Me: “I wish! They’re actually for a client of ours.”

Cashier: “Oh, right.” *winks* “Don’t worry, I’m planning to welcome the apocalypse in a similar way.”

Me: “Uh, no… seriously, I’m buying this for a customer of my boss.”

Cashier: “Yeah I get ya.” *winks again* “Just a suggestion? Grab yourself some high strength painkillers as well. A few handfuls mixed in with these and you’ll be so out of your head you won’t care the world is ending!”

Me: *quietly takes the wine and walks out*

1 Thumbs
711

His Brain Is On The Rocks

| Working | December 30, 2012

Me: “Single vodka and diet Coke; no ice, please.”

Bartender: “Sure.”

(He takes a glass and immediately begins filling it with ice.)

Me: “No ice, please!”

(He continues putting ice in the glass.)

Me: “Excuse me! No ice, please!”

Bartender: “What?”

Me: “No ice!”

Bartender: “You don’t want ice?”

Me: “No thanks.”

(He sighs theatrically, empties out the ice, and takes the now empty glass to the optics.)

Bartender: “Did you say whisky?”

Me: “No, vodka. And diet Coke.”

Bartender: “Single or double?”

Me: “Single, please!”

Bartender: “With Coke?”

Me: “DIET Coke, please.”

Bartender: “Oh sorry, did you want ice in that?”

1 Thumbs
842