(I work at a retirement home and on this particular day am covering the concierge’s break when a taxi pulls up and the driver comes in with a pharmacy bag.)

Driver: “Hi, I was asked to deliver this bag here.”

Me: “Sure, who is it for?”

Driver: “I’m not sure. Oh, it says [Resident] on the bag.”

Me: “All right, I’ll call her and have the nurses take it up. Thank you.”

(The driver leaves and I pick up the bag while checking the computer for the resident’s phone number. It’s only then that I see in the big red phrase: ‘Controlled substance. Must be signed for.’ Yeah, I didn’t sign for it and it was delivered by a taxi driver of all people. It wasn’t the last time restricted medications were delivered by taxi either!)

(The medical clinic we go to has a walk-in service. They upgraded their system with an automated phone system. We have to call the system early on the day to get an appointment for the walk-in of that day. I am coming home from work and would like to have like my asthma checked up. It’s not that bad and it’s probably nothing but I stop by the clinic to see if there’s any places left for the day. I ask the receptionist.)

Receptionist: “Yes, there is. In fact, in about 20 minutes.”

Me: “Great. Can you write me in, please?”

Receptionist: “I can’t. You have to call the automated system.” *She  hands me a business card with the phone number*

Me: “I’m actually here. You want me to go back home to phone the automated system, and then drive back here? You can’t just write me in?”

Receptionist: “That’s the new procedure. Sorry.”

Me: “Oh… okay.”

(I step aside two steps and pick up my cell phone, take the business card and begin to dial the number.)

Receptionist: “Okay, I get it. I’ll write you in.”

(I go out to eat with a friend at an Italian place. I am mildly lactose intolerant.)

Me: “Can I have veggie panini, but without the mozzarella?”

Waitress: “It comes with the cheese.”

Me: “Yes, I realize that. I cannot have large amounts of cheese.”

Waitress: “But it comes with the cheese.”

Me: “The menu says everything is made to order.”

Waitress: “Yeah?”

Me: “So… just ask them to leave off the cheese, please? I don’t want to be ill.”

Waitress: “It’s just cheese. It’s fresh.”

Me: “I get that. I also know that I cannot have it. I am allergic. Can you please ask them to leave it off?”

Waitress: “Okay, but it’s supposed to come with it.”

(We get our food a few minutes later.)

Me: ‘Miss, uh, this is full of cheese.”

Waitress: “Yeah.”

Me: “I asked for no cheese when I ordered it. I am allergic. I cannot have it.”

Waitress: “It’s just cheese.”

Me: “Yes. It’s just cheese. However, I am lactose intolerant. I cannot have cheese. It makes me ill. Can you please have them remake this?”

Waitress: “But it comes with cheese!”

Friend: “Listen, miss, I have no idea what the problem is here, but when things are made to order, it’s entirely possibly to swap out certain ingredients. She is not asking you to change the bread or the veggies and make a miracle happen. She just wants you to respect her allergy and simply ask the cooks to make the sandwich without the cheese. It’s not difficult.”

Waitress: “Oh, please! Everyone knows that allergy is a myth! She can eat it if she wants to!”

Friend: “Lactose intolerance is not a myth, a fad, or anything like that. It’s an actual problem. It’s an allergy to lactose, which is in dairy. Now, she asked you to do something incredibly simple. Can you please take the correct order so she can eat?”

Waitress: “You are so rude!” *storms off and points us out to her manager*

Manager: “Excuse me, is there an issue?”

Me: “Yes, actually. I tried ordering this without cheese, as I am allergic. She fought with me over it and then said she would do it. She brought me this which, as you can see here, has cheese. She then refused to have them remake it and essentially told me that I am a liar, since she doesn’t think lactose intolerance is real.”

Manager: *turns to his employee* “Is this true?”

Waitress: “It’s just cheese!”

Manager: *to her* “Are you kidding me?” *to us* “I am so sorry. I will have that properly remade and both of your meals will be on the house. I can promise that if you ever return here, she will definitely not be waiting on you – or anyone – at this location.”

(The cheese-free panini was fantastic, even though it took about an hour to get it!)

This story is part of our Food Allergies roundup!

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Read the Food Allergies roundup!

(I called up a month previously and was told my issue would be looked into and I should receive a letter within 10 working days. I am calling to chase this up and find out what is going on. It’s a Monday.)

Me: “Hi, I called previously about [issue] and was told I’d hear back in 10 days, but it’s been a month. Can you tell me what’s happening, please?”

Agent: “I can’t see any notes on your case. Give it a bit longer.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Well, how long is it normally? Because I was originally told 10 days and it’s been twice that.”

Agent: “I don’t know. They haven’t got to it yet. You just have to wait until you hear back.”

Me: “Oh, is there a backlog? Do you know what date they’re working on?”

Agent: “No, they don’t tell us that. You just have to wait until they get to you.”

Me: “Why would [Previous Agent] say 10 days? That was what I was basing things on, and I’ve even allowed plenty of extra time. Is there any way you can check if they have it, just so I know it’s definitely there and not been missed or lost or something?”

Agent: “If [Previous Agent] said they sent it, they sent it. They have no reason not to. It’s their job.”

Me: “I’m not saying it would be deliberate, but sometimes mistakes happen or things slip through the cracks. I just want to make sure it’s not forgotten”

Agent: “There’s no way to check. You just have to wait”

Me: “Well, how long should I wait?”

Agent: “I don’t know. It’s not due yet. You have to wait.”

Me: “How do you know it’s not due yet if you don’t know what date they’re working on or what the normal turnaround time is? I was told the turnaround time was 10 days, so mine is past due.”

Agent: “Look, you’re in a queue. You can’t jump to the front. You have to wait like everyone else.”

Me: “I don’t want to jump to the front! I just want to make sure I AM in the queue!”

Agent: “I can’t check. You just have to wait.”

Me: “Yes, but for how long?”

Agent: “I don’t know. You just have to wait til they write to you.”

Me: “How long is a piece of string?!”

Agent: “Exactly!”

Me: “Six months, then. Should I leave it six months?”

Agent: “No, that would be ridiculous.”

Me: “So how long should I wait, then?!”

Agent: “Call Friday and they can chase it for you.”

Me: “Why will they be able to chase it on Friday but you can’t chase it for me now?”

Agent: “It might be your turn then.”

Me: “But you have no basis for that because you don’t know what date they’re working on or the turnaround time! I’d like to speak to a supervisor, please!”

Agent: “No, they’ll just tell you what I’ve told you.”

Me: “You haven’t told me anything!”

Telemarketer: “Hello, Ms. [My Name]?”

Me: “It’s me.”

Telemarketer: “Hello, I work for the great psychic and numerologist Madam [Name]. Your profile was chosen because of its deep numerological meaning. The numbers say you have a generous heart and you’re going to get some good news about work and love. However, there’s a jealous woman who wants to harm you. If you want to know more about your future, you just need to pay seven euros for five minutes.”

Me: *deadpan* “That’s nice of you, sir, but you’re too late. The jealous woman killed me yesterday and buried me in the garden. I’m a ghost and I can hardly answer the phone so the best thing you can do is phoning a living person. Have a great day!”

(I could actually hear him laugh on the phone!)