The Friday Rant: Comments I don’t want to hear

From my doctor (female), during my yearly physical:

Me (whinily): “Another mammogram? Crap.”

Doctor: “I know, it’s really quite a bit more painful when you don’t have much breast tissue.”

From my doctor’s nurse, calling me with X-ray results:

Nurse: “The x-rays show you do have arthritis in your lower back, but other than that everything was just fine!”

Me: “Okay, but what do I do about it?”

Nurse: “You can take ibuprofen or Tylonel, and alternate heat and cold packs as needed.”

Me (in my mind): “What?!! You can take ibuprofen and Tylonel for pain? Why has no one told me this before?!”

From a clerk in a popular teenage clothing store, as I waited for my daughter to come out of the dressing room:

Clerk: “Is there anything I can show you, ma’am?”

Me (with a smirk): “No, I think this store isn’t quite in my age bracket.”

Clerk: “You know, we sell jeans all the way up to a size 22.”

From a saleswoman in a jewelry store, as my husband was having me pick out a birthday gift one month after giving birth to my second child:

Me: “This ring is a little too small.”

Saleswoman: “Well, your fingers won’t be quite so swollen after you have the baby.”

From the cashier at the gas station, after the card reader has rejected my second debit card:

Cashier (looking down her nose): “This card is bad too.”

Me (somewhat angrily): “No, that can’t be. They’re from different banks.”

Another customer (walking in the door): “Hey, the card reader rejected my debit card.”

Me: “It’s not your card. Their credit machine is broke.”

Cashier: “It’s not our machine. It wasn’t working earlier, but we had it fixed. Your cards are bad.”

From the PA system in a local store:

PA voice: “Would the owner of a green van, license plate number blahblahblah, please report to the parking lot immediately.”

At the vet’s office, after discovering that our new golden retriever has an odor issue:

Me: “I know this is crazy, but my dog seems to … well, fart. Like, loudly.”

Vet (struggling not to laugh): “Yes, some big dogs do … well, fart.”

Me: “How can I stop this?”

Vet (struggling worse): “There’s really nothing that helps. You just have to learn to live with it.”

From a neighbor, chatting in the front yard as my four-year-old son plays nearby:

Neighbor: “You know, Lisa, your son has been watering your garden lately.”

Me: “How nice! What a thoughtful child.”

Neighbor: “He hasn’t been using the hose.”

From a phone call at 3:00 a.m.:

Me (groggily): “Hello?”

Caller: “This is the Police Department …”

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About alisaacarter

I am a writer of young adult novels, wife, mom of three, lover of animals, former magazine editor, reader of anything paranormal, and coffee fanatic.
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