When I first got hired at [Sub Chain], I always heard complaints from the other employees bashing the owner of this particular one and calling her nasty names. I always thought that they were just exaggerating or being lazy because most of them were teens — despite being fresh out of high school myself.

About a year in, I realized they weren’t wrong when I was made to work with them. This is the thing that finally broke it for me and made me quit.

I only hear the manager’s half of the phone conversation. Her father was in the hospital prior to this for other health conditions and has had heart attacks before.

Manager: *Through tears* “I just found out my dad had another heart attack and he’s not doing well. They don’t think he’s going to make it. I’m leaving to go be with him. You need to find coverage or [My Name] will be here alone until twelve.”

Now she is angry, crying harder, and screaming into the phone.

Manager: “What?! No, I can’t ‘just finish my shift’! My father is in the hospital dying!”

The manager hangs up and leaves. After that, because the boss can’t find anyone to come in, she has to come in herself to “help” — all she does is ring out customers — and this is what she says.

Boss: “I can’t believe she just left like that! She’ll be lucky if I don’t fire her for walking out!”

Me: “Um… her dad is in the hospital; he could be dying. You seriously expect her to stay at work for what could be the last time she can see or even talk to her father?”

Boss: “I don’t care. She has a job to do. She should have finished her shift before going to see him. It would only have been six hours.”

I take off my gloves and start heading for the door because I seriously can’t work for someone THAT heartless.

Boss: “Where are you going?”

Me: “I’m leaving, you’re a heartless f****** c***.”

Boss: “How dare you talk to me like that?! I’m your boss!

Me: “No, you’re just a b****. I quit. Look in the mirror and you’ll see why all your stores are short-staffed.”

After a while, I did go back to that shop for some food and to see some of the coworkers I liked. I found out that the manager also quit, and the boss didn’t tell anyone else why she was there alone that day apart from “they both walked out.” My old coworkers were appalled to hear why we both walked that day.

I’m trying to find a price match for a customer that already seems to be a bit off. Our online system is acting up and I’m without a cellphone.

Me: “Now, if you type in the barcode into your phone, it will pull up the item, and I can see what I can do.”

As I try reading the barcode, he tries to read it out loud, as well. After a couple of false starts, I try to speed things up a bit.

Me: “I’ll read it out for you. Sorry about that.”

Customer: “That’s okay. I’m f****** high.”

Me: “Ah. Okay.”

Customer: “And I don’t care if anyone knows.”

The rest of the transaction went by fairly normal as I tried not to laugh.

I live in a state where recreational marijuana is legal. I’m ordering from a restaurant that’s popular with the stoner crowd and the people who work there are usually a little hazy themselves. For this reason, I’m usually pretty thorough about making sure everything I order is correct.

The delivery guy has just delivered my food and, to my surprise, everything is correct. I sit down to eat when I get a call.

Me: “Hello?”

Delivery Guy: “Hey, man, it’s your driver from [Restaurant]. I’m so sorry, man! I took your food to the wrong house!”

Me: “What? No, you didn’t.”

Delivery Guy: “You had [correct order], right?”

Me: *Pause* “Yeah?”

Delivery Guy: “I’m really sorry! I’m running back to the restaurant right now; I’ll be right there.”

Me: “No, dude, I’m telling you, I have everything I ordered right in front of me. I’m in the middle of eating it!”

Delivery Guy: “No, it’s totally my bad. Don’t worry.”

Me: “Listen to me. I just saw you! You handed the food to me! My name is on the receipt!” 

Delivery Guy: “Sorry. It’s going to be, I don’t know, like, ten more minutes.”

Me: “Please, I’m telling you: I paid, you gave me the food, and it’s all perfect. You don’t have to do anything. We’re all good.”

Delivery Guy: “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just been a long night. But I’m almost back at the restaurant now, so I won’t be too long.”

Me: “Really, it’s okay. I don’t need anything-”

Delivery Guy: “It’s no problem. Just… Oh, wait…”

He is silent for a good few seconds.

Delivery Guy: “My bad! Have a good night!” *Click*

I never figured out what he thought was going on. The food was great, though!

I work a lot of conventions around the country, which means a lot of airport trips. I’m disabled, though I know how to handle airports by this point. I’m at my gate, ready for them to announce pre-boarding. They call for those with priority boarding: people with small children, active military, and people with disabilities. I start to get up to head towards the gate.

Passenger: “You aren’t priority! Wait your turn!”

I’m used to premature judgment, so I ignore him and use my cane to get in line. Instead of leaving me alone, he comes over and gets in my face.

Passenger: “I SAID, WAIT YOUR TURN! IF I CAN’T GET ON YET, YOU CAN’T, EITHER!”

I’m a little freaked out at this point. The man is obviously taller and stronger than me. A flight attendant rushes over.

Attendant: “Sir! I need you to back off!”

Passenger: “Tell this b**** to sit down! She ain’t priority!”

Attendant: “We will determine that. You need to sit down, sir.”

He takes a step back but refuses to go further.

Passenger: “If she can board early, I get to get on early, too! Ain’t no way she’s disabled!”

Attendant: “Ma’am, can I see your boarding pass?”

I hand it over.

Attendant: “All right, it shows that you did request priority boarding due to mobility disability. And you are obviously using a mobility aid.”

Passenger: “SHE’S LYING!”

He tries to rip my pass out of the attendant’s hand. Luckily, she steps out of the way.

Attendant: “I’m going to be calling security now. Ma’am, I’ll make sure you get on the plane with no problems.”

She walked me to a coworker and then called airport security. I boarded before seeing them arrive but did not see the man board the plane afterward. Fortunately, I’ve never had to deal with anything like that since.

Some years ago, a friend and I had tickets to see The Scarlet Pimpernel on Broadway. We went with one of those bus tours and got to the theater early so we could take our seats and be comfortable.  

And then two things happened.

Incident one:

About ten minutes from the opening curtain, two gentlemen came to our aisle and began to argue with the women sitting next to us in the aisle. The women were in their seats and the men wanted them to get out. They debated the point — all of them leaning over us and getting tenser and more irritable as the debate went on — for several minutes until an usher was called over.

The usher looked at the men’s tickets and said, “You are correct. Those would be your seats… if you were coming to see The Scarlet Pimpernel. Unfortunately, your tickets are for The Lion King which is at the New Amsterdam theater.”

The men argued a few more seconds and then finally took off running. My friend and I and the ladies beside us couldn’t help but wonder out loud how you can see the name “Minskoff” and read “New Amsterdam” or read the name of the musical and mistake it for another.

We all settled back in. A loud buzz of voices started up behind us. Everyone in the theater looked back to the balconies where a large group of high school students was taking their seats. No problem. Schools bring kids to the theater all the time. They usually quiet down as soon as the play starts.

Not these kids.

The theater probably did themselves a disservice when they announced that “This performance has been selected to be taped for airing on PBS later this year. We ask the audience to please be on their best behavior.”

Almost immediately, the kids in the balcony started shouting random words and screaming at each other, and their teachers did nothing to stop them.

As the play began, it was almost impossible to hear the actors’ words or enjoy the music as the kids in the back continued to sing loudly — other songs, not the songs in the play — and shout out suggestions to the actors during quiet periods.

At one point in the performance, the characters gathered to quietly plan a coup and, even though we were sitting in the ninth row, we could not hear a word they said. Suddenly, at that point, the cast all stood up from their positions, went to the front of the stage, and said “SSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The audience joined in and we all waited until the kids were silent before the play resumed.

I took a quick look back at the balcony: two ushers were up there speaking with the teachers. Before the act was over, the balcony had been cleared and the rest of the play took place without incident.

I am sure the kids were screaming in hopes of seeing the play on TV and hearing themselves ruining the experience for everyone else. I have to wonder what kind of pea-brained little snot thinks that’s an appropriate thing to do. More to the point, I wonder why the teachers didn’t think it was their responsibility to shut the class up.