Holistic Medicine and the Western Medical Tradition

Her Heart Is Just Not In It
RETAIL | RIGHT | NOVEMBER 28, 2013
(A well-dressed, middle-aged lady comes to my till.)

Me: “Hello there, how can I help?”

Customer: “Just a packet of ten [Brand Cigarettes] please, dear.”

(I go to the cabinet, find the cigarettes, scan them, and hand them to the customer. She stares at the packet.)

Customer: “Oh, no, dear. I don’t think I’d like this packet.”

Me: “That’s okay, madam. Which brand would you like instead?”

Customer: “No, I mean I don’t like this packet. Could I have another please?”

(The customer gestures to the health message on the packet, which reads ‘Smoking causes throat cancer.’ It comes with a rather graphic picture.)

Me: “Oh okay, how about this one?”

(I hand the customer a packet labeled ‘Smokers die young.’)

Customer: “No… no, not this one either I’m afraid.”

Me: “Okay, madam. How about ‘Smoking harms both yourself and others around you’?”

Customer: “No, I don’t like that one.”

Me: “’Smoking causes heart disease’?”

Customer: “…no.”

Me: “‘Smoking can cause impotence’?”

Customer: *after a pause* “…yes. Yes, okay. I’ll have that one.”

This Boss Gets More Than Just The Check
AWESOME, LGBTQ, LOUISIANA, NEW ORLEANS, RESTAURANT, USA | RIGHT | JANUARY 10, 2013
(A young gay couple has become my favorite regulars at the small restaurant where I work. One day as I am talking with them, an older, more conservative-looking man walks past us to the To-Go pickup area. He stops short next to us, and in the same moment, I see one of the young guys look down with a panicked expression at where he is holding his boyfriend’s hand.)

Older Man: “[Name]! I didn’t know you ate here!”

Young Man: *uncomfortable* “Oh, yeah, um… it’s half way between work and my… boyfriend’s work, so.”

Older Man: *glances at James’ boyfriend* “Oh.”

(There is an awkward pause, where we all just stare at each other.)

Older Man: “I’m sorry, I’m being rude.” *offers his hand to James’ boyfriend* “I’m [Older Man], [Young Man]’s boss. Very nice to meet you. We all love James in the office.”

Young Man’s Boyfriend: “Oh! Nice to meet you, too! You know, [Young Man] is always talking about how much he looks up to you.”

(The young man is so visibly relieved that he is near tears. The three makes some more small talk before the older man heads off to pick up his lunch. I end up taking his payment and he quietly asks me to pay for James and his boyfriend’s meal as well.)

Older Man: “You know… when I was growing up, I was taught that being gay was bad, a sin. But that young man is the brightest kid I’ve ever known, and I can’t see a d*** thing wrong with him…” *pauses* “…or his boyfriend.”

(He smiled at me and then walked away without another word. To this day, I can’t think about the look on James’s face when I told him that his boss paid for his nearly $100 meal without wanting to cry.)

I’d Like Nachos With Extra Photoshop Please
CALIFORNIA, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, MOVIE THEATER, STUPID, USA | RIGHT | JULY 4, 2013
(Our concessions stands have digital menu boards, and our food and drink advertisements play every once in a while. A customer is next in line and comes to my register.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I’d like a large drink and nachos.”

(I get her drink and bring her the nachos. The nachos are pre-packed, and as soon as I give them to her, she opens them and looks disgusted.)

Customer: “I don’t want these nachos! The chips are too small! I wanted the larger nachos!”

Me: “I’m sorry; we only have one size, which is what I gave you. Did you want to try any other hot food?”

Customer: “No, I want large nachos! What about those?! I want those nachos!”

(The customer points to our screen, which is showing the nacho advertisement.)

Me: “I’m sorry; that’s the digital screen, displaying an ad for our nachos.”

Customer: “But those nachos look bigger!”

Me: “I’m sorry; they’re the same size as the nachos I gave you. The camera is zoomed in to show texture.”

(The customer has a dumbfounded look on her face, and quietly leaves.)

One Born Every Minute
PUBLISHING | WORKING | JULY 27, 2013
(My coworker is complaining to me about another coworker. My coworker’s birthday was the day before.)

Coworker: “Seriously though! Does she think I was born yesterday?”

Me: “Well… you were.”

Their Mind Is Blank (Cheque)
CALL CENTER | WORKING | JANUARY 27, 2014
(I work at an internal call centre. One of our Ireland stores calls about a customer and a cheque.)

Store: “Hi. A customer has paid by cheque and the transaction on the till has gone through twice.”

Me: “Okay. Your till is now over, so you’ll need to refund one of those transactions to balance the till once the customer has left.”

Store: “So, I do a cash refund and give it to the customer?”

Me: “No, don’t give it to the customer. He’s only written one cheque. You’re making the refund on your duplicate transaction on the till.”

Store: “Yes, but he’ll be charged twice.”

Me: “No. He’s only written you one cheque.”

Store: “Yes, but the cheque authorisation has gone through twice.”

Me: “Yes, but the authorisation doesn’t mean he’ll be charged twice. It’s only authorisation by the bank. The customer has only written you one cheque. That cheque won’t be processed until it’s banked.”

Store: “But the transaction has gone through twice.”

Me: “Yes, but only on your till. Your till is now over by the duplicate amount, so you need to balance it by making a refund.”

Store: “So I give the cash back to the customer?”

Me: “No! Don’t give anything to the customer other than the receipt and the product he’s just purchased.”

Store: “I don’t understand.”

Me: *explains again* “…and when you hit the refund button, the till drawer will open. Just close it!”

Store: “Oh, I understand. I thought cheques were like cards and he’d be charged twice.”

Me: “No.” *slowly bangs head on desk*

Bucharettuce
AT THE CHECKOUT, CANADA, FUNNY NAMES, GROCERY STORE, ONTARIO | RIGHT | APRIL 18, 2011
(I’m ringing through a customer’s order. I put a romaine lettuce through. The customer points out a price error.)

Customer: “The lettuce is $1.97, not $2.97.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. Just to double-check; it’s a romaine lettuce you have, right?”

Customer: “No, it’s USA lettuce.”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “It’s USA lettuce.”

Me: “Well, it’s from the USA, but it’s called romaine lettuce.”

Customer: “No, it’s USA lettuce, not Romanian.”

Wireless, Clueless, Hopeless, Part 31
AMSTERDAM, BAD BEHAVIOR, SPOUSES & PARTNERS, STUPID, TECH SUPPORT, TECHNOLOGY, THE NETHERLANDS | RIGHT | OCTOBER 30, 2017
(I work for a major company for Internet, TV, and phone services, and this call comes in.)

Me: “This is [My Name] with [Company]. How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Yeah, my f****** Internet isn’t working every time I use the d*** vacuum cleaner!”

Me: “Okay, that’s weird. Can you tell me in depth how you know that the vacuum cleaner is the issue?”

Customer: “Well, whenever I clean the house, I don’t have Internet, TV, or a phone line. It is starting to freak me out!”

Me: “But I can see that the services are working just fine.”

Customer: “Yeah, that’s the weird part; like ten to fifteen minutes after my husband comes home from work, everything works perfectly.”

Me: “Is your husband there, because maybe he fixes it somehow?”

Customer: “Yeah, hold on. I’ll get him for you.” *screams husband’s name*

Husband: “Hello, this is [Husband]. What’s up?”

Me: “Your wife told me the services like Internet and TV aren’t working all day long after she used the vacuum cleaner, and just like magic, when you come home from work everything works again.”

Husband: “Yeah, that’s true. Whenever she uses the vacuum, she pulls the plug of the router and modem to put the plug of the vacuum cleaner in. Then, she removes the vacuum cleaner, but doesn’t put the plug of the modem and router back in.”

Me: *confused* “So… why didn’t you tell her this?”

Husband: “Because she thinks the router and modem don’t have anything to do with Internet and TV because she uses ‘wireless services.’ She always says she wants to throw the router and modem away because she never uses them.”

Me: *almost crying* “Okay, well, I suggest you tell her that they are needed.”

Husband: “Nope, that’s your job. Good luck.” *passes the phone back to his wife*

Customer: “Hey, so is it fixed?”

Me: “Well, it seems that you pull the plug of the modem and router whenever you use the vacuum cleaner, but forget to put the plug back in. Your husband puts the plugs back when he’s home, so that’s why all services work whenever he comes home.”

Customer: “But I use wireless; I don’t need that stupid box of s***.”

Me: “Well, actually, you need it, ma’am, because that box sends the wireless signal.”

Customer: “Oh.” *screams the name of the husband* “YOU MOTHERF*****! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS, YOU PIECE OF S***? NOW I’M F****** EMBARRASSED, YOU D***-HEAD!”

Me: “Is there anything I can assist you with, ma’am?”

Customer: “No, thanks. Lots of love, and thanks for the support!”

Me: “You’re welcome. Have a nice day.”

(Just when I said my last line, I heard pots and pans getting thrown around. I just hung up and burst into laughter. My supervisor asked me why I was laughing, so I told him the story and let him listen to the call. It was a fun day.)

What A Lady, What A Night
CHEATERS, DRUG STORE, HEALTH & BODY | RIGHT | APRIL 17, 2009
(I’m standing in line and overhear this conversation between a beautiful middle-aged woman and the photo clerk.)

Clerk: “Unfortunately, we are unable to print all of your photos. Some of them are in violation of our content policy.”

Customer: “I don’t understand. All I took pictures of was a trip to Busch Gardens and then my son’s birthday party. What could be so inappropriate?”

Clerk: “Were you at some point singing karaoke?”

(The customers face goes from confusion, to understanding, to embarrassment, and finally to barely controlled rage.)

Customer: “I will be right back.”

(The customer goes down the aisle and begins grabbing a few additional items.)

Clerk: *to me* “She was naked. Pretty hot for an older lady.”

(The customer returns with her new items and makes a phone call while the clerk processes the transaction.)

Customer: *sweetly on the phone* “Oh, honey, you have been working so hard and have been so good to me. I am making you an amazing dinner. Can you pick up some makings for some cocktails on the way home? I am going to give you a night you will never forget! Love you, bye!”

(As she says this, I notice the new items she’s buying: a sports drink, anti-diarrhea medicine, and a giant bottle of contact lens solution–the latter of which can give people diarrhea. The clerk finishes the transaction and the customer gives us the most evil grin right before she walks out.)

Clerk: “Hopefully, she won’t let him suffer too long…”

Terms Of Endearment
FUNNY NAMES, SPOUSES & PARTNERS, TECH SUPPORT, USA | RIGHT | AUGUST 19, 2008
(I work for an Internet tech support center. Due to security and billing, once an account has been registered, it can’t be changed.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Tech Support]. What can I do to assist you today?”

Customer: “I need to change the email address I registered on the account.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I do not have the ability to do that for you. You can, however, set up a sub-account to use instead.”

Customer: “You don’t understand. I really need to change the email address.”

Me: “Well, sir, I can give you to another department who might be able to help, but in order to change that, it will essentially disconnect and reconnect your service. This may result in a charge due to your contract. I can show you how to set up a sub-account though.”

Customer: *sighs* “I really have to change my account. My wife is going to kill me.”

Me: “Can I have the email address so I may access your account?”

(There’s a long pause before the customer speaks again.)

Customer: “Ourpaininthea**@*** .com. I was really frustrated when I was registering.”

(At this point, I nearly have to mute my phone to keep the customer from hearing my laughter.)

Customer: “My wife uses this to talk to all of her bridge club friends. She will kill me if she has to give this out.”

Me: “Well, sir, you can set up a sub-account just for your wife and she can have whatever email address she wants. You get ten of them for free, so you would never even have to use the main account if you don’t want to.”

Customer: “Really? Can you show me? You may have just saved my marriage.”

Me: *still trying not to laugh* “No problem, sir

Lobotomy Monotony
TELEMARKETING | WORKING | JUNE 9, 2014
(In spite of the fact that I have a cell-phone, I get a ton of telemarketing calls. I always ask them not to call back, but they continue.)

Telemarketer: “Hello, I’m calling from [Law Firm] about a class-action lawsuit. Have you recently had a surgery you needed denied?”

Me: “You know it’s illegal for lawyers to solicit services, right?”

Telemarketer: “But, ma’am, isn’t there any surgery you need but haven’t been able to get approved by your insurance?”

Me: “Actually, now that I think about it, I really could use a lobotomy and a boob job.”

Telemarketer: “Excellent! At [Law Firm] we specialize in getting you services you need. So about your lobotomy—”

Me: “Hey, think about what I said.”

Telemarketer: “You said you needed a lobotomy?”

Me: “Sounds like you had one if you don’t know what it is…”

Telemarketer: “…”

Me: “Think about it.”

Telemarketer: “F*** you, b****!”

Me: “STOP CALLING ME!”

(He hung up, and then started calling me from his PERSONAL cell to abuse me… until I turned his number over to the police. I have yet to be bothered by a telemarketer since!)

This Little Piggy Went To H***
EDITORS' CHOICE, RUDE & RISQUE, TEACHERS, TECH SUPPORT, USA, WORDPLAY | RIGHT | MARCH 6, 2008
Me: “Can I help you?”

Teacher: “Yes, I’ve forgotten my password and would like you to retrieve it for me.”

(I do some ID verification stuff.)

Me: “All right, just a moment. Okay, ma’am. Your password is…”

Teacher: *apparently remembering at the last minute* “Oh, no.”

Me: “Piggly… Wiggly… F***er.”

Teacher: *sheepishly* “Yeah… thank you.”

Me: *bursts out laughing*

His Behavior Is Not Up To Scratch
VIDEO GAME STORE | RIGHT | DECEMBER 1, 2014
(I’m ringing up a customer who is purchasing a replacement copy for a game that stopped working.)

Customer: “Yeah, this game just stopped working. It looks fine, though.”

Me: “We can get you another, but let me see if we can trade the defective copy towards the new copy.”

(I look the disc over, which has been scratched beyond belief, the is even marks around the center of the disc as if someone were trying to carve circles around it with a razor, but didn’t have a steady hand.)

Me: “It looks like someone intentionally scratched it to a point where it is not repairable.”

Customer: “That’s fine, we bought it at another store a week ago.”

Me: “We won’t be able to exchange it, if something like that happens to this copy.”

(I grab our last copy of the game for him, which he inspects.)

Customer: “Why would you even try to sell this. This looks like garbage.”

Me: “Sir, there’s just a fingerprint on it. It’s in far better condition than the one you had.”

Customer: “Well, you’d best find another one, because I won’t buy this.”

(After cleaning the fingerprint off and replacing the disc back in this case he purchased it and left. He returned a week later with a copy in the same condition as the one he was originally replacing. Turns out his kid was carving into the discs with a knife, and he had brought the kid in to make him pay $50 for the last copy, and pay his father back by trading his other games. Sweet justice.)

Can’t Get A Handle On The Handle
RETAIL | RIGHT | JULY 15, 2013
(We are an appliance dealer. Our doors are locked as a safety precaution, and we have to buzz people in. A customer is furiously jiggling the door handle. I speak to her through the intercom.)

Me: “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Woman: “OPEN UP!”

Me: “Okay ma’am, wait for the buzzer and pull.”

(The customer continues to jiggle it before and through the buzzer sound, so it doesn’t open.)

Woman: “LET ME IN! WHAT IS THIS?! ARE YOU RACIST IN THERE? YOU DON’T WANT MY KIND IN THERE?!”

(I speak louder over the non-stop jiggling and banging.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’ll buzz you in again. Just please let go, wait for the buzzer, and then pull.”

(The customer continues to jiggle the handle and yell and bang. This repeats two more times.)

Me: “Miss, I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s really not that difficult. Please, just take your hands off the handle, wait for the buzzer, and then pull the handle.”

(The customer continues to jiggle the handle.)

Woman: “WELL F*** THIS! I DON’T NEED THIS! I’M A F****** QUEEN!”

(The customer punches the glass and leaves.)

Me: “Have a nice day, your highness.”

Strange Math In These Here Parts
HOTEL, TIME, USA | RIGHT | MARCH 18, 2009
Customer: “What time is check-in at your hotel?”

Me: “3 pm.”

Customer: “And check out?”

Me: “11 am.”

Customer: “Okay, so we got four hours.”

Me: “Um, yeah…”

Ill-Timed Intervention
BOOKSTORE, RELIGION | RIGHT | APRIL 30, 2009
Me: Hi, ma’am. How can I help you on this fine Sunday afternoon?”

Lady: “I need to talk to the owner.”

Me: “She’s not in today, ma’am. If you’d like to–”

Lady: “I need to talk to her NOW! I have a message from GOD!”

Me: “…”

Lady: “…” *glares*

Me: “Well, she’s still not in. If you wanna leave a message…”

Lady: “You don’t understand! God Himself has sent me here with a message for her; it’s important and needs to be delivered today, right now!”

Me: “God sent you here?”

Lady: “Yes, to deliver an important message to the owner.”

Me: *leaning across the counter, eyebrows raised* “Um… wouldn’t God know that the owner never works on Sundays?”

(She freaks out and begins ranting incoherently about how God will strike us down. Then she throws some things and leaves, slamming the door.)

Me: “Have a good day!”

Go Directly To Jail, Do Not Pass Test
CRIMINAL & ILLEGAL, DMV, EDITORS' CHOICE, FUNNY, USA | RIGHT | MAY 7, 2009
(My mom and I are leaving from the place where I took the test to get my driver’s license when we see another car drive in. A man steps out of the car and talks to the lady in charge of giving the driver’s test. )

Driver: “I’m here to take my driver’s test.”

Employee: “Who drove you here?”

Driver: “I drove myself.”

Employee: “You drove yourself here to take the test to get your driver’s license?”

Driver: “Yes.”

Employee: “That could be a problem…”

Blood Type B(igot)
MEDICAL OFFICE | RIGHT | MAY 15, 2013
(I’m in the waiting room at the ER, waiting for news about my girlfriend. There’s a very agitated patient at the counter with a cut on his hand, but he’s demanding to speak to a nurse before he gets any attention. )

Patient: “I need to know if there’s any way to make sure I get the right kind of blood if I need a transfusion.”

Hospital Employee: “Of course, we check your blood type and make sure we get a match. If you give a type A person type B blood, it can be very dangerous, so we have to be careful. But looking at your hand, I don’t think you’ll need—”

Patient: “No no no! You filthy ingrate; you don’t understand! I want to make sure I don’t get no [racial slur] blood! You need to make sure that if I get a transfusion, it’s white blood!”

(Everyone in the emergency room is staring at him. He turns around to glare at us all.)

Patient: “What? You have no right to judge me! I have pride; that’s all that matters! If I want to keep my blood pure. These idiots need to make sure that happens!”

Hospital Employee: “Sir, we don’t keep racial records on blood donors. Nor do the blood banks. We make sure there are no blood-borne illnesses, and that the typing matches.”

Patient: “That isn’t good enough! I ain’t getting no [racial slur] blood, you hear me?”

Hospital Employee: “Again, sir, looking at this injury, you shouldn’t need a transfusion. You’d literally have to have someone come in and donate blood to you.”

Patient: *to me* “You! You’re white! What blood type are you?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; I couldn’t, in good conscience, save the life of a bigot.”

(Everybody applauds, but the man actually passes out. They stitch up his hand, and unsurprisingly, he doesn’t need blood.)

For You, We’re Always Closed, Part 3
HARDWARE STORE | RIGHT | JANUARY 17, 2014
Me: “Customer service. How may I direct your call?”

Customer: “Is this [Hardware Store]?”

(I’m slightly confused, as to call the store you have to go through a menu and press certain numbers to actually get customer service, so it should be very clear that we are [Hardware Store].)

Me: “Yes, Ma’am.”

Customer: “Oh. Well, your automatic thingy didn’t say so!”

Me: “Oh, um… okay. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “Yes! I was really surprised to hear you’re closed on Thanksgiving!”

Me: “Yes, Ma’am. We’re very happy to spend the day with our families.”

Customer: “Your families? So you’re closed? What if MY family needs to buy something? Your family isn’t more important than mine! When you work in a store you should know you can’t have a family!”

Me: “Ma’am, what exactly would you have to buy from [Hardware Store] on Thanksgiving Day?”

Customer: “Well… well, I don’t know, but you should be open anyway! Just in case!”

This Test Has Your Name On It
COLLEGE & UNIVERSITY | LEARNING | APRIL 22, 2013
(I’m taking a final exam with a professor who is known for little ‘experiments.’ I’m also not very good at his subject. Our tests are face down on our desks ready for us to begin.)

Professor: “Anyone who gets up now, walks out the door, and doesn’t take the test will get a 6.”

(A 6 is a passing grade, but barely. Most of the students get up and walk out. I remain seated.)

Professor: “[My name], you are having a hard time with this subject; don’t you want the 6?”

Me: “I would like my grades to be my own work, so I’ll stay.”

Professor: “Okay then. *addressing the few of us who stayed* “Please turn over the test.”

(We turn over the test and it only has one question: ‘Name.’)

Not Quite Up Their Alley
BOWLING ALLEY, PENNSYLVANIA, STUPID, USA | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 28, 2010
Customer: “We would like to bowl on the lane next to our friends. They are on lane five.”

Me: “Okay, no problem. You are on lane six.”

Customer: “Where’s that?”