SNARKY CONFESSIONS FROM THE FRONT DESK

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 work at the desk at the main entrance of the hospital. It’s my job to take the patients full name and affix a wristband on the wrists of visitors, before directing them to the room of the patient they’re here to see. Sometimes I lose my patience with rude visitors. 

Me: Hi there, what can I do for you today? 

Visitor: I’m here to visit someone who had a baby. 

Me: Great, if you can tell me the patient’s name, I can find out what room they’re in. 

Visitor: His name is *insert name*.

Me: Okay, we don’t have a patient by that name. You said they’d had a baby, is that the mother’s name?

Visitor: No, that’s very obviously a man’s name, he is the baby’s father. 

Me: I see, since the mother was the one admitted, it’s her name I need. 

Visitor: I don’t know, you should be able to find it with his name. 

Me: I’m sorry, I can’t. I need the patient’s full.

Visitor: *swearing* This is nuts, I don’t know the b****** name! She’s married to my son. Why isn’t my son listed? Doesn’t he have rights?!

 

Me: Ma’am, I don’t know a thing about his rights, but I do know this is a hospital where we admit those in need of medical care. Unless your son was in labor and pushed the baby out, you’re going to need to call him and ask the name of the lady who just gave you a grandchild.

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