We have an outdoor garden, which my mother loves, but she doesn’t always have the time to care for it properly, so it falls on me to do so.

A common reason potted plants can die is, surprisingly, overwatering. This is why I inspect the soil daily and skimp on watering for the day if it’s clear that the soil is still moist and needs a bit of drying.

Enter my elder sister, who I suspect is mostly doing this for a power trip, though I won’t discount simple ignorance completely. I won’t get into all my grievances with her, but in summary, I’ve been told by my parents to do as she says, purely because she’s older than me and therefore always in the right. I’ve explained to her why I don’t water every day. So, of course, she took it upon herself to water on my “off days”, despite clear evidence of the plants beginning to die of root rot.

At some point, she straight up told me, right when I was about to have breakfast, to drop it and water the plants immediately, and every single day, despite me watering them just the day before.

Sister: “It’s your duty, not mine. Water them every single day. They are not getting enough water, which is why they’re dying.”

Me: “The soil is still quite damp and a rich brown. They actually need drying a bit.”

Sister: “Don’t assume anything. That’s just the surface.”

Parents: “Do as she says. We’ll keep your food warm.”

At that very moment, I stopped caring. I’ve since begun to do exactly that every day. Rain or shine, the soil will get its fill, even as the plants begin to wilt and wither from overwatering, begging to be dried out for a bit.

At some point, they asked a professional for a second opinion, who suggested overwatering as the cause of the sudden malady inflicted on the garden. They either did not believe him or didn’t catch that detail, but they did swap out the soil of the potted plants. Of course, they’re still being watered every day, with predictable results.

I see one of the guys who works next door walk out without buying anything. When he would regularly do this, we would notice missing items, so we’re suspecting him of shoplifting.

He shows up one day with his name tag on from the store where he works next door. As we’re keeping an eye on him this time, we actually see him stealing

A group of three weak managers come up to me:

Manager: “Go next door and tell them what he’s doing.”

Luckily, one of my coworkers also works next door, so I just go in and tell him what we saw.

Coworker: “Yeah, we’re sure he’s stealing from here as well.”

As we’re discussing this, the shoplifter has come back in and sees/hears me ratting him out. That was the last time I saw him at either of our locations!

There was a dentist convention in town. I was working in a Michelin-starred restaurant, and these guys were well-off, so we got a lot of them through the door.

This couple came in looking a little “boisterous” but nothing to raise alarms. Then, they ate for four hours, and they took breaks, which constantly messed up the timing of the kitchen. This included a half-hour “cigarette” break — on phones, making out, [drugs], etc.

After four hours and three bottles of wine, they ordered another bottle of wine. We cut them off, and that’s when it got really fun.

The “gentleman” went to the restroom (to do more drugs again, based on the white stuff dripping out of his nose), and as he returned, he walked by two tables and made a jacking-off motion toward them while making obscene noises, yet still continuing toward his table.

The next thing the couple did was complain (lie) that everything wasn’t good, and even though they’d eaten everything and had been given good service, they refused to pay. We locked and blocked the door because the bill was $1,100. Eventually, we threatened to call the cops, so they paid, left no tip, and laughed their way out the door.

After calling my manager a “sleazeball” and telling him he “should be a used car salesman”, the a**clown dentist gave him a twenty-dollar bill and told him with a smile, “For your service.”

My manager wadded it up, threw it into the back of his head, and then shut and locked the door.

My client needed a logo update, as well as some new signage to reflect the rebrand. We agreed that the logo was the first step in the process, and we would work on signage once the logo was completed. I sent them five logo proofs: four in various shades of blue and a fifth in a rich purple, somewhere between burgundy and eggplant.

Client: “I like the blue one best.”

Me: “Sorry, which one is that?”

Client: “I said the blue one.”

Me: “We have four blue ones. Can you give me the number so I know which one you’re talking about?”

Client: “Okay, it’s number three.”

Logo number three was the purple one.

I work at the information desk at a hospital. One day, a patient comes up to me, tells me she is being discharged, and asks me to call for a van from an organization that works to support those experiencing homelessness with transportation and other services. 

I call the number, and it ends up being a very time-consuming, chaotic experience as I end up on hold for quite a bit, and then I have to keep going to find the patient to pass questions along from dispatch. The patient goes outside for a smoke, then to the gift shop, etc. I finally get it all sorted out and go for my break. 

When I get back…

Coworker: “While you were gone, the van came for that patient. Not only was she nowhere to be found, but the folks from [Van Organization] gave me her last name, and when I looked her up and called the unit, they told me that [Patient] was very much not discharged whatsoever!”

Hours later, the patient comes by. 

Patient: *Mumbling* “You can cancel that van.”

I have since learned to always check in our system when patients ask me to call for a ride, just to double-check before inconveniencing people or sending someone away before they are medically discharged!