Because Repeating It Over And Over Will Make It Happen

| PA, USA | Bosses & Owners, Ignoring & Inattentive

(I work in a medical office which has an adjoining counseling office. We are owned by a large hospital group that includes dozens of doctors’ offices. One day someone from the counseling office calls and says she had a family emergency and asks if someone could cover the front desk for her for a few hours. Although I don’t typically work the front desk, I often cover others when needed. So, I go over. On this day there is a psychiatrist who comes to see patients there once a week, on loan from the behavioral health office (BHS). When I go to check in his first patient, I realize I don’t have access to his schedule. I call over to behavioral health to have someone check them in. He comes over to me:)

Doctor: “What is taking you so long?”

(I explain the situation and that I had found a workaround but it would take a few extra minutes.)

Doctor: “This can’t happen.”

Me: “I’m sorry, [Regular Worker] had an emergency. It’s a one time situation.”

Doctor: “This can’t happen.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I don’t have access to your schedule.”

Doctor: “This can’t happen.”

Me: “Well, although we share the same computer system, if you don’t regularly work at a particular office, you don’t have access.”

Doctor: “This can’t happen.”

(Now I’m getting pissed.)

Me: *somewhat sarcastically* “You know, you can check in your own patients?”

Doctor: “Well, someone could have at least given you a brief tutorial.”

(Now I’m fuming.)

Me: “Have you not heard a word I said? It’s not that I don’t know how. I have worked for this large hospital system for 20 years. I know what I’m doing. I DON’T HAVE ACCESS TO YOUR SCHEDULE!”

Doctor: “Why not?”

Me: “Because I don’t work at bloody BHS!”

Doctor: “This can’t happen.”


It’s Going To Be A Long(bottom) Day

| Ann Arbor, MI, USA | Bizarre/Silly, Geeks Rule, Health & Body

(I am a very, very, VERY shy, easy to be embarrassed, but mature thirteen-year-old girl going to physical therapy for a pectoral strain. I have been going for a few months, and every month, they place me with a tiny, sweet, Russian woman PTA. I am really only comfortable with her, as the place of the injury is very near my left breast. It even says this on my chart. Along with this, I am extremely literal at times and I don’t follow directions well. One day, they put me with a man, much to my extreme discomfort.)

Man PTA: *gives hard to follow instructions*

Me: “Like this?” *does exercise wrong*

Man PTA: *rolls his eyes* “No. Like this.” *shows me then rolls his eyes again*

Me: “I apologize, but you did not make clear what you wanted me to do.”

(The PTA doesn’t respond, so I assume he thinks I’m stupid. Note: this is a common misconception of mine, thinking that someone is mad at me, thinks I’m stupid, doesn’t like me, etc. Then, this happens.)

Man PTA: “You’re very intelligent, aren’t you?”

Me: *caught off guard* “Uhm, well, I like to think so…”

Man PTA: “So you get good grades?”

Me: “Yes. I don’t often get under a low A.”

Man PTA: “Oh, you can do anything with those grades! Can’t she?”

(Another PTA walks up, the one that I was comfortable with.)

Woman PTA: “Yup.” *walks away*

Man PTA: “Are you in high school?”

Me: “Yes.”

Man PTA: *overly obnoxious* “Oh, yeah! Those are the best days of your life coming up! I don’t think I even went to most of my classes!”

(I am in no means a slacker. I absolutely love to learn.)

Me: “Oh.”

Man PTA: “Are bullies still a thing?”

Me: “Well, I wouldn’t know really, as I’m homeschooled.”

Man PTA: “Well, that’s a little biased then, isn’t it?”

Me: “Pardon me?”

Man PTA: “Well, your mom is your teacher, right?”

Me: “Yes.”

Man PTA: “Then doesn’t she just give you good grades, no matter if you do badly or not?”

Me: “Well, no. That’s not how it works. My grades are computer generated. And regardless, my mom’s not there to pity me. If I get bad grades, it’s my own fault.”

(He shrugs like he hasn’t just insulted me.)

Man PTA: “What do you like to do then?”

Me: “I enjoy writing.”

Man PTA: “Cool, what kind?”

Me: “Fantasy, mostly.”

Man PTA: “Oh, cool. Wait, have you read Harry Potter?”

Me: “Yes.”

(I am a huge Harry Potter fan.)

Man PTA: “Can you, like, write a story about that? Like, the Nevilles. What happened to them? Like, why are they crazy?”

Me: “Uhm, the Longbottoms were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters.”

Man PTA: “Whatever.” *walks away*


Name And Shame

| MA, USA | Funny Names, Rude & Risque

(I’m in the doctor’s office, discussing my treatment.)

Doctor: “Who’s your oncologist?”

Me: “Dr. [Movie Star Name].”

Doctor: “I know him. You know, another doctor and I were discussing patients with famous names. He had one named [Golden Girl Name].”

Me: “Okay, I went to junior high school with [Welsh Movie Star Name] and [English Movie Star Name]. Even funnier, my sister’s name is [Porn Star Name] and she’s conservative. I went to look up her business address and whoa!”

Doctor: “I’ll have to look that up, just not on the office computer.”


Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 10

| USA | Non-Dialogue, Pokemon, Technology

I work in a medical office where we have a crack down on cell phone usage, as it is pretty out of hand. This coincided with the release of Pokémon Go. A couple of coworkers and I play, as does the supervisor.

Five pm hits, which marks the end of my shift. I pull my phone out of my purse and turn on the app, and an [Uncommon Pokémon] spawns in.

I catch it and brag to my coworker who feigns annoyance at me. I walk up to my boss’s office to let her know I’m leaving and to update her on the day’s tasks, ending with “oh, and there is an [Uncommon Pokémon] by my station.”

Without skipping a beat she picks up her phone and goes to find it.

Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 9
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 8
Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 7


This Counsellor Has Balls

| USA | Awesome Workers, Health & Body

(I go to counseling for personal issues. My counselor is an older man who speaks in a monotone voice that gives one the impression that he has a dry sense of humor. After a few months of therapy, I am beginning to feel really comfortable around him and open up a bit more.)

Me: “I don’t know. I sometimes feel like because I made that mistake, that I am not worthy of love.”

Counselor: “[My Name], it really pains me to hear you be so negative about yourself all of the time. You have a lot of great qualities, but you seem to focus only on the things that went wrong. I have an idea…”

(He opens a drawer in his desk, revealing a plethora of foam stress balls. He takes one out and throws it at me, hitting me in the shoulder. My jaw drops.)

Counselor: “Any time you say something negative about yourself, I am going to throw one of these at you… and I have about twenty or thirty in this drawer.

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