This happened when I worked at a grocery store. The pay was bad, our managers were idiots, and the customers were looking for something to complain about more often than not. Needless to say, after two months of working there, I was highly motivated to go anywhere else.

It was also the first job that taught me that accepting extra shifts marked you as the go-to person when they needed someone to stay late, and our managers were not of the mind to take “no” for an answer. Worse still, they directed other employees to ask me if I could take their shifts whenever they wanted a day off, and each time I did come in on a day off or stay late, I got treated worse than usual by my superiors, with even more talking down and horrible extra duties than usual.

I was sacking groceries, and the rush had just died down when one particularly nasty supervisor came up to me.

Supervisor: “[My Name], we need someone to stay late tonight, and I was hoping you could step up.”

Me: “No, I have plans.”

This was sort of true; I would normally get off late, but my plans involved fast food and sleeping off another miserable day.

Supervisor: *Crossing her arms* “I was hoping you could step up, [My Name], and be a team player.”

Me: “No, I have plans.”

Supervisor: “Can’t you put them off for tonight?”

Me: “No.”

Supervisor: “Why not?”

Me: “I have plans for tonight. My answer stands.”

She glared at me for a few seconds and then wandered off. I had a sinking feeling that wasn’t the end of it, and sure enough, she walked up again with one of the managers in tow.

Manager: “[My Name], [Supervisor] said you might be interested in working late tonight?”

Me: “No, I’m not. I told her I had plans.”

Manager: “Well, can you put those plans on hold? We could really use someone to step up and be a team player.”

Me: “No, I have plans.”

Manager: “I would really appreciate it, and [Supervisor] would appreciate it, too.”

Me: “No, I have plans.”

Manager: “I don’t think you understand. We really, really need someone to stay late, and we’d really appreciate it if you could step up and be a team player.”

Me: “Then maybe you shouldn’t treat people who ‘step up’ like s***.”

Manager: *Pauses* “What do you mean?”

Me: “Every time I’ve come in on a day off or stayed late, the supervisors here are even worse to me than they usually are. I get run ragged, trying to do four people’s jobs at once, while people like [Supervisor] are whining at me, and when I say no because I’ve got plans, I need to study, or I’m just plain too tired, no one respects my answer. I told [Supervisor] ‘no’ four times, and I’ve told you ‘no’ three times, and you’re trying to keep asking me until I cave. You don’t appreciate it when I ‘step up’, so I’m not going to anymore.”

Manager: “You know, it doesn’t reflect well on you as an associate when we need you to step up and you fail to do so. I’d like to remind you we’re in a right-to-work state, where you can be terminated without cause at any time.”

I took about three seconds to consider what I was putting up with and the negative effect it was having on my college classes. I then took off my badge and placed it on the counter.

Me: “Thanks for reminding me. I quit.”

I walked over and punched out, left a message under the Store Manager’s door saying I was resigning immediately due to poor treatment, and then went to my car and drove off.

My parents, whom I lived with, were slightly peeved that I had quit a job without one in the works, but they eventually agreed that I needed to study more than I needed to work at a dead-end job.

Two days later, I got a call from the Store Manager — not the manager from before, mind.

Store Manager: “Hello, [My Name]? I got your note that you quit because you felt unappreciated. Do you have some time to talk?”

Me: “My decision stands. I told [Manager] and [Supervisor] several times apiece that I could not stay late — again — due to having plans, and they continued to badger me.”

Store Manager: “Well, we’re out several people this week. Do you think you could delay your resignation and come in so you could cover for them, and we could talk about this? I think you’re making a hasty decision.”

Me: “…no. Ever since I started working at [Store], things have gotten progressively worse. Whenever I would get cajoled into working on my day off or working late, I got verbally abused and put down, even when I was working my hardest. I’m not going to tolerate that kind of abuse.”

Store Manager: “Look, I know sometimes our supervisors use more stick than carrot, but they’re just under a lot of pressure, and we could really use people like you who can step up regardless of that.”

Me: “I’m not sure how to put this in simpler terms. Your staff treated me and other employees like s***. Going above and beyond resulted in more abuse. None of you know how to take no for an answer.”

Store Manager: “What we’re trying to do is help you make the journey from ‘No, I can’t’ and ‘No, I won’t’ to ‘Yes, I will’.”

Me: “Then you need to treat your employees better. I’m done with you. Do not call me again, or I’ll file for harassment.”

I hung up. After picking up my last check, I avoided that store like the plague. When I did go in later, none of the supervisors or managers I knew were still there. As to what happened to them, I never found out, and I frankly didn’t care enough to ask.

My father used to travel a lot for work. Years ago, he had a flight that made it back to his home airport in Houston, but by the time it landed, the weather there was so bad that all the freeways surrounding the airport were closed. My father (and many other stranded passengers) spent the night in the airport’s Presidents Club.

Enough stranded passengers ended up in the Presidents Club that they had to close and lock the doors when the club reached its maximum occupancy. There were still passengers who came up, saw the closed and locked door, and rattled or banged on the door in an effort to get inside. The employees would open the door just long enough to say, “See the sign that says we’re at maximum occupancy? We’re not joking,” and then they’d shut and lock the door again.

Unfortunately, the weather also meant that the club employees couldn’t leave when their shift was over, nor could their replacements come to take their places. At a certain point, a lot of the stranded passengers, including my father, told the staff, “You go rest. Just show us where things are, and we’ll make our own drinks and snacks.”

Then, of course, you had the passengers who were highly affronted that the paid staff should get to rest, and the stranded passengers should take care of themselves. “I’m a Presidents Club member! You’re supposed to take care of me, not the other way around!”

Most of the passengers were perfectly content to take care of themselves, and they ignored the passengers who whined.

One time, a woman I knew asked me (another woman) if I wanted to be friends and invited me to “hang out.”

It turned out that her definition of “hanging out” was for her to sit there in her apartment, smoking and ignoring both me and her toddler while she engaged in multiple — clearly social, not business — phone calls.

After about two and a half hours — way longer than I should’ve put up with it, I know — I finally got tired of it and left. Clearly, she just wanted me to watch her kid for free while she gossiped on the phone all day.

She glared at me as I left. Oh, well…

I am sitting in an airport on my way to visit family up north for the holidays. I am sitting by my gate, watching all the planes as they come and go from their spaces. Next to me is a little kid, around five, and her grandmother. The kid is excitedly watching it all happen with childlike wonder when she asks a very good question.

Five-Year-Old: “Grandma, how do the planes move like that?”

Grandmother: *Very seriously* “They’re anthropomorphic.”

The little girl nodded solemnly, having learned such high wisdom. I nearly choked holding in my laughter.

During the utterly unprecedented snowfall that hit Texas like a semi-truck going the wrong way down a busy highway, there was a day I had to walk to a supermarket because my car just plain refused to start. As it was very, VERY cold, I was wearing layers: a sweatshirt, a hoodie, a beanie, a snood (which is basically a fitted mask from nose to neck), and flannel pajama pants under my jeans.

On top of my hoodie was an old military jacket that I bought from a thrift store which didn’t provide a lot of cover, but layers are layers, and it was cold.

I also happened to have the bottoms of my jeans tucked into the tops of my work boots to keep the two feet of snow I had to trudge through out of my pants. These boots — to play devil’s advocate — could be mistaken for military boots at a distance, even though they’re not.

When I was just about to walk into the supermarket that some woman I’d never seen before (and never saw again) sprinted up to me and almost literally shoved her phone in my face, clearly recording.

Stranger: “Hey! You can’t wear that!”

Me: *Blinks* “…Huh?”

Stranger: *Points at my jacket* “Take that off! It’s stolen valor!”

I looked down at myself and blinked again.

Me: “…It’s a jacket.”

Stranger: “You’re trying to get a discount! Just buy your groceries like everyone else!”

I realized she was recording me, like the “Stolen Valor Revealed” videos on YouTube. I decided, perhaps naively, to try and explain the misunderstanding.

Me: “Oh, no, you’re mistaken. I’m not trying to get a military discount—”

She interrupted me and poked me in the chest to indicate my jacket.

Stranger: “Why else would you wear that, then?!”

It took me a few seconds to look around at the TWO FEET of snow that had gotten dumped on Texas almost overnight and then back at her.

Me: “‘Cause it’s cold.”

She blinked, took a moment herself to look around, and then blinked again. I could almost hear the gears clicking in her head as they stalled out after being given simple logic. At that point, I figured that, while she was distracted, I was just going to get inside the supermarket before my hands turned blue. And that way, I would have witnesses around me in case she escalated matters.

As it happened, I didn’t see the lady again until I was heading for the registers, and she was “hidden” behind a display, evidently thinking she was being sneaky, with her phone up again, ready to call me out. So, I preempted it.

Me: *To the cashier* “Just for the record, this jacket isn’t to mark me military; it’s just because it’s cold.”

The cashier looked a bit confused, as though I didn’t even need to say that, before nodding politely.

Cashier: “Um, okay, sir. Do you have a loyalty card?”

The transaction went without a hitch; I paid with my card, and I very specifically did NOT get any kind of discount. The woman who’d approached me wasn’t there anymore, and I figured she’d given up and found someone else to bother.

That was until I made my way to the front door. Ms. Stolen Valor was standing next to it with the very confused-looking manager in tow. I let out a sigh and held my receipt out to him before she could throw around any accusations.

Me: “Here’s my receipt. She’s claiming stolen valor, right?”

The manager also sighed, already looking like it had been a long day, took my receipt, gave it a quick pass with his eyes, and then handed it back to me.

Manager: “You’re fine, sir. Was she bothering you before?”

Me: “Yeah, she ambushed me outside, and she tried to sneak a video at the registers, but I basically ignored her. Am I free to go?”

The strange woman was going red in the face and was possibly two seconds from stomping her feet.

Manager: “Unless you want to file a harassment charge, sure.”

Me: “That won’t be necessary; it’s too cold. Sorry to leave you with her.”

Manager: *Chuckles mirthlessly* “I’ll live, I hope.”

I nodded politely to the manager and then passed right by the accusing woman. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see she was seething, clearly upset that she didn’t get a million-view callout video or whatever, but I just plain did not care. The manager, however, did keep her with him so she didn’t follow me down the street, and I can only imagine — and hope — that she at least got a reprimand for her antics.

I guess at the end of the day, I didn’t steal any valor, but I did get my time wasted.