So at the company I now work for, they have a survey that pops out on the customers receipt. If they go online and fill it out, they give money off their next purchase, a chance to win, etc.
Not only can we see what people have been saying and rating for our store, now they have this new feature where the customer can add the name of the employee who gave them great customer service. Well, the first automatically generated one was emailed to us for the whole district to see and this is what it said:
This certificate is in recognition of great customer service, congratulations:
Glad to see all the fuss about wearing your name-tag is warranted.
Ok so full disclosure, this is not an actual horror story.
So it all started when our local, over-booked doctor misdiagnosed my little brother with strep throat and an ear infection. With the wrong prescription in hand, my brother continued to get worse over the week.
Finally my mom forced him to go back to the doctor to get a stronger prescription and low and behold it turns out he had pneumonia. Since he was already so sick, the doctor sent him away to the hospital. Now to the part that concerns moi and my dislike of hospitals.
Jonah Hill couldn't have put it any better (minus all the f-bombs) than his line from Knocked Up when they first arrive at the hospital: "I'm not having shit besides a f*****g panic attack. There's probably a f*****g room back there full of dead bodies! You guys wanna be here when one rolls out and just f*****g coughs malaria into our face? Jesus."
Thus was my attitude walking into the florescent lit, medical smelling building. As I walked down the hallway, I cringed and hurried a little faster whenever people near me would cough; as if by walking faster I would out run the germs. Yeah I don't understand the logic either.
So as my family and I were waiting for my brother to come out of the x-ray room, we sat in the small cluster of waiting chairs outside the room. There were four chairs and three of us. So one chair remained in the middle. Seeing this, an elderly man in a hospital gown sauntered by and plunked himself down right between us. After about a minute of awkward silence, the man spoke up.
"By the way, I have measles."
My mom jumped up instantly, away from the man and I followed suit just seeing how panicked my mom was. While my dad remained sitting right beside the guy. Then my mom hissed to my dad.
"Get away from him!"
So my dad moved down one chair and all I could think was:
"This is how I die...."
And yes this was meant to be a funny story, I laughed about it afterwards. I mean, who does that? That man really knew how to clear a room.