I’m going on a trip. Usually, I park in the official airport parking, but I forgot to book it until the day before and it was all sold out. Instead, I book with one of the many private enterprises nearby.

I arrive in good time and park my car in a free spot. I go to the check-in hut, but there is nobody there. There is, however, a prominent sign on the door that says to go straight to the shuttle stop, and the driver will check my ticket. There is a mobile number for emergencies.

I head to the shuttle stop, where there is another sign that says the shuttle comes at fifteen and forty-five minutes past the hour. It’s currently twenty past, so I sit down to wait. Sure enough, at forty-five past on the dot, the shuttle turns up.

I chat with the driver while he checks my details.

Driver: “I’m happy you didn’t call me.”

Me: “Why would I need to call you? Everything is fine.”

Driver: “So many people call asking what to do or when will the shuttle come.”

Me: “But it’s all on the signs?”

Driver: “You think people read the signs?”

A few years ago, I was flying home for Christmas. I was at the airport, getting ready to go through security. I had extra stuff because I needed to work while I was gone, so I had my work laptop and needed equipment on top of my personal electronics. Getting unpacked took me a bit. Finally, I got everything onto the belts including my shoes and jacket.

I moved into line to go through the X-ray, and suddenly, lights started flashing and a fire alarm went off. It didn’t seem to be going through the whole airport, and no one was running or screaming, including the TSA agents. They did, however, stop letting people through the X-ray. The agent running it kept apologizing and saying they’d get us through ASAP. All of a sudden, this manager or supervisor or something came running up to this X-ray. (This was the only one that had this incident/issue; there were at least four other lines that got moving within about a minute.)

Manager: “Okay, people, we’re going to give this a minute, but you likely are going to need to go outside and wait while we clear things.”

The other passengers standing around and I kind of looked at each other in surprise. I glanced at the manager.

Me: “But what about our stuff?”

Manager: “You’ll have to leave it here and come back through security when we let you back in.”

I pointedly glanced down at my bare feet and held up my arms in my short-sleeve T-shirt.

Me: “Um, but what about this? It’s currently snowing, and I don’t know about them, but I don’t want to stand out in the cold with no shoes and no jacket. Plus, no offense, but if any of my stuff ends up missing or stolen because you made me leave it unattended, I’m going to come looking for it.”

The agent running the X-ray kind of started side-eyeing the manager, and he met our eyes and kind of shook his head no. I’m not sure if he was trying to stop me from getting into it with her or if he was trying to tell us they’d do what they could to not send us outside unprotected.

Manager: *Slightly huffy* “If you have to go outside, you’ll need to come back for it.”

Before I could point out the likely health hazards of forcing us outside like this, the alarm shut off. The manager just glanced up and then walked away, and we were allowed to go through the X-ray. I start putting everything away and getting everything back on.

As I was finishing up, I noticed the manager kind of half-hovering nearby and glaring in my general direction. She didn’t actually do anything, but I wonder if she was staring because we were holding things up (which was her fault in the first place, but let’s not talk about that) or if she was hoping for me to give her a reason to detain me. 

Luckily, I’d gotten there early enough that, even with the delay, I was able to take my time getting to the gate. The rest of my Christmas was just lovely, but I do wonder about that manager every so often.

I work at a coffee shop at an international airport in Florida. There is a Chinese woman who serves as some sort of monk liaison, and she comes into the store bi-monthly; monks like caramel Frappuccino, FYI.

Every time she comes in, she orders an iced coffee with cream and sugar. After she pays, she goes to the pick-up counter, waits for the barista to hand off her drink, and demands that they add whip cream and caramel, which are add-ons and cost extra. It is a small thing, the whip and caramel, but it costs us money which causes our loss prevention officer to think we are stealing in a big-picture sense. It is a licensed store, so there is none of that free beverage stuff that other stores can get away with.

Once you have given someone who knows better something for free without any perceivable gratitude, a seed of resentment is planted. We all have resentment blooming in our bellies for this lady. Finally, one day, one of my baristas loses her cool a little and tells the woman:

Barista: “We all remember you when you come in, you know. I know you know that this is not free, and this is the last time that we are doing this for you without charging you.”

When the words come out of her mouth, I am slightly proud but cringe because I know what is going to happen next.

Customer: “I want to speak to the manager.”

That’s me!

She starts screaming at me because my barista “yelled” at her.

Me: “I’m sorry you feel mistreated; however, I was standing next to the barista and she didn’t raise her voice.”

Customer: *Starts screaming at me* “It is not nice to be yelled at! She yelled at me and that is rude! It is very rude to yell at people!”

As everyone within a thirty-foot radius stares at us, mouths agape, I respond the only way I can.

Me: “Yes, it is very rude to yell at people. Very, very rude to yell at people. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

This was a few months ago. She came in and asked for an iced coffee a couple of days ago. I opted to make it for her his time. When I was through, I handed it to her and she started to ask for something, but I looked her in her eyes with an unflinching gaze. She stopped, took her drink, and sat down.

While this woman is a total pain, I still don’t mind too much because waiting on monks is pretty cool.

I worked for a terrible airline company. They started a smaller company that could hire and train people to run the planes but pay them way less at certain airports. Whereas my colleagues at other airports were making over $20 an hour, I was getting paid $10.25 for the same — and sometimes more — work.

It honestly would scare you to know how little they pay the people who are the ones that make sure your plane takes off safely. All of us had two to three jobs to be able to pay rent, and we were all in the job for the benefits — free flights to anywhere in the country on standby.

I could tell many stories about how terrible my boss was. Here’s just one.

I had to go to the hospital from the airport because of intense pain in my stomach. It turns out that because of the stress caused by that job, my intestines decided to stop functioning. I spent the day in the hospital, and then they gave me a note saying that I didn’t have to work for the next two days. I told [Boss]’s boss about it — since I hated talking to [Boss] — when I went back to work three days later.

I came in around 4:00 am. We had five people total to load all luggage, load the water, and push out five planes in a little over an hour — already an incredible amount of work for so few people. We had our morning work meeting to discuss how f***ed we were, and then [Boss] asked me into his office.

Boss: “Your attendance is unacceptable.”

Me: *Dumbfounded* “What do you mean?”

Boss: “You’ve been late a couple of times, and now missing the past three days…”

Me: “[Boss], I have the note from the hospital. According to work policy, that shouldn’t affect my attendance.”

Boss: “I don’t care what work policy says. I’m going to fire you.”

Again, I cited work policy since we were “protected” by a union.

Me: “[Boss], you have to give me an attendance warning before you’re allowed to fire me for attendance. This is the first time I’m hearing about attendance, so you can’t fire me right now.”

Boss: “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to give you a warning right now, and when I get back from vacation next week, you’re going to be fired. Now go back to work. My decision is final.”

I told my coworkers what had happened. Then, I decided, “All right, well, if next week he’s firing me, I’ll just leave now.” Even though their day was about to be f***ed since now four people were working five planes, my coworkers all said, “F*** this place. Get out of here!” So, I left and went to get breakfast.

As I was enjoying my meal, [Boss] called me. I happily ignored him. He called three more times and then texted me, asking where I was.

Me: “You fired me. Why would I keep working for you?”

No response. I tried to soak in the sight of [Boss] running between planes like a chicken with his head cut off. I don’t imagine that any plane took off on time that morning.

I got a call from Human Resources, the union representative, and the general manager, who was [Boss]’s boss. They all said [Boss] was wrong and asked me if I could come back to work it out, but quitting felt so good, and I felt such a weight lifted off my shoulders thinking about not working there anymore, I never went back.

This part isn’t so satisfying; it’s more a testament to this airline’s complete lack of ethics. [Boss] got in really big trouble later. One coworker had a shoulder injury and had a note, and he told [Boss] several times that he couldn’t do super heavy labor. [Boss] sent him to the bag room by himself anyway. Imagine having to lift 300 to 700 fifty- to seventy-pound bags over your head per hour, all while running between the bag carts and the belt. Needless to say, the guy tore his shoulder and had to get surgery on it.

They still didn’t fire [Boss]. Instead, they “promoted” him to manage the workers who did ticketing and no manual labor. As far as I know, [Boss] still works for the airline. My coworker still cannot move the way he used to two years later.

Tens of thousands of passengers fly through my airport every day without saying a word, but when one chimes in, it’s always a nightmare. A lady steps off of a cross-country flight.

Passenger: *Demanding* “Get me your supervisor!”

She doesn’t even bother speaking to me about it but immediately assumes this is egregious enough to take to the higher-ups. My supervisor comes over and offers to help.

Passenger: “The pilot for my flight needs to get fired for flying too high!”

Supervisor: “What are you referring to, ma’am?”

Passenger: “The captain said we’d be flying at 36,000 feet when he made his announcements, but when I checked the navigation channel on the TV, the altitude was 38,000 feet! That was life-threatening! Any normal pilot would have stayed at 34,000 feet just to be safe!”

Supervisor: “I see. I promise I will talk to the pilot and take care of it when he gets off the plane.”

Passenger: “You’d better, or I’ll be talking to my lawyers!”

With that, she seemed satisfied and stormed off. I told the pilot-in-command as he offloaded the aircraft and he nearly choked with laughter.