I am shopping at a hardware store when I see another customer shouting at the manager.

Customer: “Somebody hit my truck in the parking lot! The store needs to pay for it because it’s your screwed-up parking spaces that did it!”

Manager: “I need to see the damage first. Let’s go see it.”

The customer keeps stopping the manager over and over, intentionally stepping in front of him to impede his forward progress. He even goes so far as to grab the manager’s sleeve and turn him around.

Manager: “Sorry, sir, I am not allowed to dance during store hours.”

Every time the guy cusses him out, the manager just dips his head and thanks him for pointing out areas he should work on or compliments his creativity and language use. The customer is getting angrier and angrier that the manager keeps insisting on seeing the damage before he will decide whether to okay a payout or not.

I follow them out, really curious about what is going on. Also, I want to help out if the a**hole tries to start something. The manager isn’t a friend, but he is someone I enjoy interacting with when I come into the store.

We get outside, and the manager takes one look at the man’s truck.

Manager: “The store isn’t responsible and won’t be paying to have the damage fixed.”

Customer: “Why not?!”

Manager: “You’ve parked in the middle of the drive where cars are supposed to drive. You’ve basically choked the entrance from the street in half with your parking.”

Evidently, the guy who’d hit his truck never stopped and took off.

The customer started threatening the manager, telling him he was going to kick his a** and f*** him up. The manager just chuckled and continued to thank him for his advice and suggestions. The guy eventually left. I couldn’t have kept my cool the way that manager did.

Content Warning: Animal Injury

I have a lot of stories from working in veterinary care, but this one is always going to stick out in my mind, for reasons that will soon be obvious.

A woman who is not an established client shows up at our clinic one day without warning, stating that her ranch dog has been attacked by some other dogs and “might need a stitch.” We’re not going to turn someone away if their dog is injured like that, so we do our best to accommodate.

I go out to bring the dog back for an exam and see a gaping bite wound about the size of my fist; it definitely needs more than just a stitch. The plan is for the dog to stay the night and have surgery the next day.

The primary vet has me put together an estimate for the procedure. It’s not cheap. The doctor goes up front with the estimate to discuss and comes back looking pretty upset.

The dog’s owner, upon seeing the cost, said, “Just put him down. I can get another dog.” The dog is young and otherwise healthy, and the vet is not willing to euthanize him for a treatable wound.

So, he offers her an alternative: she relinquishes the dog to us, and we adopt him out to a family willing to pay the medical fees after the procedure. Thankfully, she agrees, and after the papers are signed, she leaves the clinic, never to be seen again. All in all, it’s a very eventful thirty minutes.

As for the dog, he made a full recovery and is currently sleeping quite contently on my living room floor!

I’m a web developer. For a while, I was working for a company. I had a good contract, decent payment, a fixed job location, and fixed working hours.

One of our clients made an agreement with my boss that one of his web developers would support them onsite. They were about 100 miles away from our office. I knew contract negotiations were coming up, so I volunteered in hopes of getting a pay raise.

This was a mistake.

I agreed to commute for a week, but it took four weeks. My job was to support their IT department in integrating the system into theirs, but I basically had to do everything for their underqualified developers.

Every week, I would think I was finished, and every Friday, I would be told by the client that I needed to come in the next week again. (This was technically illegal; employment law here states you need four days’ notice). Over that time, I racked up fifty hours of overtime, plus the added travel time.  

Eventually, I finished the job, and then contract negotiations arrived. I prepared a list of my qualifications.

Me: “I solely maintain and administrate this company’s project management software. I’ve trained several new employees. People like me, and I’ve volunteered around the office, increasing the overall employee satisfaction. Also, I took on an onerous and unpopular job helping an offsite client for a month, doing work that helped save our company’s reputation. I think all my extra work makes me an excellent candidate for a negotiable pay raise.”

Human Resources: “We’re really grateful for what you did for this company. I’m sorry, but because we’re reorganizing the whole company, we can’t be considerate of individuals for now.”

Me: “That ‘reorganization’ was scheduled to have ended three months ago. When do you expect to open negotiations again?”

Human Resources: “Not for another six months.”

Me: “This meeting was scheduled a month ago, and I was informed that it was a contract negotiation. Don’t all the things I do for this company count for something?”

Human Resources: “Well, nobody forced you to do that stuff.”

I quit immediately. Five other people left the same day.

The moral? Never do more than your contract requires you to do unless you negotiate a reward beforehand.

This was my first full-time job. I’d had a lot of jobs before this one, but this was my first official full-time job after high school. The owner had a good head on his shoulders and he understood that having good employees is part of having a successful business.

After I’d worked at the company for a few years, the owner brought his sons into the company so they could learn about it and start taking over some of the daily aspects of things. This would have been just fine, but the two boys were entitled jerks. They always had something snarky to say about the employees and assumed everything being done was against them and the company. The employees didn’t like them, but we put up with them because we were still working there.

One day, my supervisor and I were having a warehouse meeting with the other six or seven employees working there. We were all standing in a circle, talking about some change coming up that we all needed to be aware of. My supervisor and I were stressing how important it is to COUNT everything that ships to us, especially with boxes that show up through two major shipping companies, and to immediately move them to our receiving area where customers aren’t allowed. (A few days before this meeting, one of the warehouse guys had signed for [number] boxes from [Shipping Company] and left the boxes at the dock. When the boxes were finally moved sometime later, we were short a box, and its contents were worth almost a grand.)

As we were going over things, one of the owner’s sons walked past us to go to the vending machines, and he heard part of the conversation. He made his purchase and, upon walking back, he caught the end of my supervisor explaining how things could easily walk off when we signed for packages and didn’t bring them back to receiving right away.

Owner’s Son: “It was probably one of you guys that stole it.”

All of us just stopped our meeting and stared at him, slack-jawed, as he walked away.

I looked at my supervisor.

Me: “Did I hear him right? Did he just basically accuse us all of being thieves?”

Supervisor: “That’s exactly what I heard.”

Coworker: “If that’s how he really sees us, as thieves, we might as well not let him down and start taking everything.”

A murmur of agreement went around the other warehouse crew.

Supervisor: “All right… All right, everyone. I know it sounds like he’s basically calling all of us thieves, but let’s not stoop to his level by supporting his twisted thoughts. Just keep up the good work and ignore what he said to you guys.”

Here’s a second stupid comment that that same son said to me and the warehouse employees. I don’t recall the context of his comment, but I won’t forget it.

Owner’s Son: “This is just a basic warehouse job. All of you are replaceable, and anyone we bring in for less could do this job.”

I tend to be a jerk and tell people how it is, so I made sure to comment back.

Me: “If this work is so easy and we are easily replaceable and anyone can do the work, how about you show us how it’s done? We’ll watch and take notes.”

The owner’s son got really red in the face, turned, and stomped away.

The other son wasn’t any better. He made accusations about employees and would try to threaten us by imposing his power/position in the company to bully us into submission. Most people buckled and gave in to his temper tantrums, but after he tried to bully me a couple of times and I stood my ground each time, he never spoke to me like a spoiled brat again. The owner was such a nice guy; I don’t understand why his two boys were such a**holes. I don’t miss that place and I’m glad I no longer work there.

I found an advertisement for warehouse work for a company that delivered beverages on order. The work involved the constant lifting of heavy crates, and because of this, they apparently had trouble keeping employees. I was called back within an hour of applying, and when I appeared for the introductory appointment, I couldn’t help but notice that on all of their vehicles (including their semi-trailers) there were large notices saying, “We need warehouse workers! Call [number] and start work tomorrow!”

No surprise, I was hired on the spot without an interview. 

All of this was in addition to employees being allowed to set their own schedules. (The only provision was that they gave you one full workday a week where you had to show.) Free drinks and snacks were also provided to employees. It was almost like they were saying, “There is no reason for you not to like working here!”

My first full day was spent getting to know the place and the protocols. When I came back to start my official work, the shift manager casually handed me a scanner, a PDA, and a small printer that would print out barcodes on stickers to attach to crates.

My first batch of orders beeped in on my PDA, and I grabbed a cart and headed away to retrieve them. Every time I would scan a crate, I would get an error. I desperately tried to remember how the procedure went and tried an alternative. Things became even more catastrophic as my scanner kept disconnecting from my PDA, then my printer jammed and I couldn’t figure out how to open it, then my PDA became unresponsive, and then, suddenly, out of nowhere:

Shift Manager: “WHAT THE H*** IS TAKING YOU SO LONG?! THAT ORDER CAME IN SEVENTEEN MINUTES AGO!”

Me: “I’m having problems—”

Shift Manager: “I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS! DELIVERIES ARE EXPECTED IN 120 MINUTES — NO EXCEPTIONS!”

Me: “My scanner—”

Shift Manager: “We told you how to use it already! HURRY UP! Keep this up, and you won’t last the week here!”

Me: “But—”

Shift Manager: “BUT NOTHING! Get moving!” *Walks away*

In a panic now, I simply grabbed the rest of the crates without scanning them, but then I put them off to the side so that I could try to explain the serious problem I had. I approached the manager.

Me: “Okay, there is a problem with the batch I made—”

Shift Manager: *Looking at a screen* “Yeah, I see that! You scanned this wrong and did that wrong. Are you just walking around here asleep?”

Me: “The reason—”

Shift Manager: “I don’t want to hear your excuses! If this batch is not sent out on time, you’re f***ed. And I’m gonna tell them it was YOU!”

I walked away in exasperation, seriously contemplating throwing down my equipment and leaving. That was when someone passed by me; his name tag identified him as the general manager. Finally, relief!

Me: “Excuse me, sir. I need help with my work assignment. I’m confused about how everything is supposed to work. Can you have someone show me how it’s done correctly?”

General Manager: *Confused look* “I thought I… Hold on…”

He took out his radio and summoned someone over.

General Manager: “Stay here. They’ll be right with you.” *Walks away*

And who do you think walked up to “help” me?

Shift Manager: “You again? What now?”

Me: “I need help with—”

Shift Manager: “I don’t have time to bottlefeed you. You need to learn to work on your own! You just don’t want to try, and I’m getting pissed!” *Walks away*

I’d had enough. I ripped the equipment off of me and left the premises. When I got home, I sent the company an email and detailed my experience in full, ending it with, “If this is how [Company] tolerates managers treating their employees, then I’ll work elsewhere. Thank you for the opportunity anyway.”

I thought it was the end of that. It wasn’t. The following day, I got a knock on the door, and there stood a man wearing a polo shirt bearing the company logo.

Man: “Hi! I’m [Man], regional director for [Company]. Can I have just thirty seconds before you slam the door in my face? Thirty seconds — hear me out!”

Me: “Regional director?! Okay, wow… I’m listening.”

He explained that he’d gotten a copy of my email and was so incensed by it that he drove two hours to come personally apologize for that manager’s behavior, and he assured me that it was NOT tolerated by the company. He further stated that the manager was supposed to spend a few hours working next to me to make sure I was understanding everything, but for some reason just didn’t feel like it that day. He ended it with:

Man: “We would be grateful if you would rejoin our team. If you ever have a problem like that again, you can call me directly!”

I accepted his apology and agreed to give it another shot. And from then on, I never had any other problems while working there — especially not from that manager. As I was told, the regional director came and personally escorted him off the premises.

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