There are certain people in this world, who, by virtue of their job or profession, are untouchable. And by untouchable I mean you can't treat them how you truly want or how they deserve to be treated. Examples include waiters, executive assistants, babysitters, and more. It's not worth it to be rude to a waiter if it means your sandwich will arrive with spit (or worse) hidden inside, or if your pancakes will arrive on a plate after having been sitting inside the chef's sweaty underwear as he did jumping jacks. Conversely, it is in your best interest to be a little more polite than usual if it means your resume for a job application will not "accidentally" be thrown into the trash. You get the point.
I have two specific people to add to this list, both recently involved with the same endeavor of mine. I am busy preparing the paperwork to send away my applications for rotations at other hospitals, and this, in turn, requires me to deal with our Student Affairs office. For the most part it is staffed by kind and friendly people, except the one woman in charge who is quite the rude and unrefined b****. I apologize for the demeaning comment, except that this woman is horrible and barks at people like she has never had any politeness instilled into her. She yells at you if you stand more than 3 feet away, and you can't ask her to repeat something unless you want an earful of loud "WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU?" Unfortunately I can't speak my mind, lest I want my transcript and letters conveniently misplaced ... so damn you, you win this round.
Next up is the a-hole mother****** guy who works in a mailbox store near me (not the US Post Office, but some private mailbox store that is a pick-up station for FedEx, UPS, USPS, etc.) This guy, who I've interacted many times with before, is among the most terse, rude, and irritable POS's I've ever encountered. Ask for help and he gets visibly irritated because he has to interrupt whatever he's doing (often just text messaging) to help you. Or ask him how much it costs to send something overnight and he'll bark back "How do I know?". Someone needs to walk in, smash his hands with a baseball bat, and then tell him to treat customers.
That's all. (It's loosely related to medicine, no?)