This happened about thirty years ago. I worked at an IT Consulting company for about two years. In October, they lost their primary contract with a large state department that kept most of their 100-plus employees working and generating income.

Suddenly, there were a bunch of consultants out of billable work and on the bench, and the company scrambled to find new gigs for us. Some were able to be placed immediately, while they had more trouble finding work for others with more specialized skills, like me. The company kept us on at full salary and offered us training in other skills, which I took advantage of.

Come December, the holiday party season started. We had a nice lavish party on a weekend in a brand-new luxury hotel that had just opened recently. Obviously, the party had been paid for before the contract loss.

There were the usual drinks and dancing and food, and there were prize giveaways via random numbers. The grand prize was an all-expenses-paid weekend at the hotel. I was attending with my girlfriend, and I happened to have the winning ticket for the grand prize. Sweet!

I went up, and the woman from Human Resources giving out the prizes had a sour look on her face. I didn’t think much about it. My girlfriend and I were stoked about this opportunity for a mini stay-cation.

I came in for work the following Monday and was immediately called into the boss’s office. I was thinking they had finally found a new client for me, but no. They were letting me go due to no work. I wasn’t the only one let go that day. It sucked that it was right before the holidays, and I was slated to go back to California over the holidays to see family.

It looked to me like the Human Resources lady wanted to ask for the prize back since I was no longer going to be an employee, but she didn’t have the guts to ask. (I’d have politely declined.) But at least I knew why she had a sour look on her face at the party when I won.

I took the time off for the holidays, and when I got back, I found a new client on my own within a week. My girlfriend and I used the prize as a way of celebrating my new career as an independent IT consultant.

I work in a supermarket cafe and I have mild eczema on my forearms. For anyone who doesn’t know, eczema is a skin condition where your skin is flaky, red raw, scabbed up, and sore. My eczema is visible at work and no customer has ever complained about it ever up until today.

I took food over to the s***head customer and after I walked away, he called my manager over and said:

Customer: “That worker should cover up! They’re putting me off of my meal!”

My manager’s face instantly changed and he looked so angry. I felt extremely offended and wanted to cry. This customer essentially said I was so off-putting that he couldn’t eat his meal.

Manager: “Not only have you deeply offended my worker but you have offended me. Eczema isn’t contagious nor is it unhygienic. If you feel as if my worker is putting you off of your food simply due to his skin then I ask that you leave this cafe and grow up.”

The man was about thirty years old and he had been well and truly put in his place, I couldn’t stop smiling.

I worked for over two decades for a large corporation. Their policy (as stated in their Human Resources Policy Employee’s Manual) for bereavement time off for deaths in the family was as follows:

• For immediate family: five days, plus the day of the funeral.
• For non-immediate family: one day, plus the day of the funeral, or up to three total days, at the discretion of the employee’s manager.

Immediate family was defined as: “Parent, grandparent, sibling, child, step-child, spouse, in-laws, and any relative living in the same residence as the employee.”

The non-immediate family members were defined as: “Uncle, aunt, first and second cousin, either by blood or marriage relationship.” Additional time off could be granted at the discretion of the employee’s manager up to three days total.

My older brother died when I had been working for them for seventeen years. My brother died on a Tuesday morning, so I took the rest of that day, plus Wednesday through Friday, and then the following Monday and Tuesday. According to HR, the Tuesday my brother passed did not count as a day off since I was in the office that day, in addition to the fact that I didn’t leave the office until around 11:00 am. His funeral was held on the following Saturday, so I took the Friday before as the “day of the funeral day”, since his funeral was held during a weekend.

It’s worth noting here that my supervisor was notorious for twisting company policy to suit her needs, or to screw us out of our rightful time off, or whatever the case was, because, for whatever reason, she wanted things her way and always to her advantage.

Upon my return, my supervisor insisted that I “was only entitled to one day off, plus the day of the funeral” because my brother did not live in the same residence as I did. She had already changed the other four days of my bereavement leave to vacation time. Our conversion went like this.

Me: “That’s not true. The HR policy manual says that a sibling is considered an ‘immediate’ relative, and I get five days plus the day of the funeral, or the day before or after if the funeral is held on a weekend.”

Supervisor: “If they live at the same residence.”

I pulled out the HR Employee Policy Manual, which I had at my desk, and even showed it to her.

Me: “No, that’s not what it says here. It says, ‘Immediate family applied to: Parent, grandparents, sibling, child, step-child, spouse, in-laws, and any relative living in the same residence as the employee.’”

Supervisor: “Yes, he did not live in the same residence as you, so you get the one day, plus day of the funeral.”

Me: “The same residence rule applies to any relative that’s not an immediate family member, provided that they live in the same residence. Immediate family members do not have to live in the same residence for us to get the five days plus day of the funeral.”

Supervisor: “It says the relative has to live in the same residence to get the five days off.”

Fed up with her nonsense, I called HR and put them on speakerphone, with my supervisor standing right by me.

Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] from [Department]. You are on speakerphone with my supervisor, [Supervisor]. She seems to be confused about the bereavement leave time. My brother passed away a week ago Tuesday, and [Supervisor] insists that I only get one day bereavement leave because my brother did not live in the same residence as I do. She already changed four days of my bereavement leave over to vacation days.”

HR: “Okay, I’ll clarify the policy for her. [Supervisor], you are listening, correct?”

Supervisor: “Yes, I am here.”

HR: “Mr. [My Name] is correct. Siblings count as immediate family, and he’s entitled to the full bereavement leave of five days, plus day of funeral. Immediate family members do not have to live in the same residence. That rule only applies to non-immediate family members. You will please change Mr. [My Name]’s leave time back to bereavement leave instead of vacation time. I think the policy as stated in the employee manual is pretty clear on this.”

Supervisor: “Oh, okay. I’m sorry, I misunderstood. I guess I misread it.”

HR: “Okay. Mr. [My Name], please let me know if you have any other questions!”

Me: “Thank you!”

She didn’t misunderstand anything. She just wanted things her way. This time, she didn’t win. 

Several months later, my supervisor’s great uncle died in Barbados. Guess who insisted that she was entitled to five days plus day of funeral bereavement leave?

I worked at a mall novelty game shop owned by a couple. One day, I called one of the owners to say I was horribly sick and wouldn’t make it to my shift that afternoon, giving them a good six-plus hours of notice. I was met with aggressiveness.

Owner: “Are you really that sick? Couldn’t you just take some over-the-counter cold meds and come in?”

I could barely speak on the phone and had a horrific cough. When they accepted I wouldn’t be coming in, they then told me:

Owner: “You need to contact all of your other coworkers and get one of them to cover your shift.”

At this point, I’d had enough.

Me: “I don’t have most of their numbers, and I’m not comfortable with doing that.”

I hung up before they could argue more.

I’ve NEVER been told to find someone to cover for me when sick; that’s why I call my boss in the first place.

Then, when I was finally well again, they made a huge fuss out of having to pay me for my sick day according to provincial law at the time, claiming “small business owners just can’t get by”.

And then they and their five children went on a two-week trip to Switzerland.

I get a job as a grocery store cashier when I am in my late teens. I do my best to perform my job to the best of my ability, but I’m not jumping to do more than I’m paid for. One day, my manager sends me on break without a replacement, so I sign out of my register, turn off my light, and put a chain across the lane. Simple. That’s what every cashier is supposed to do when closing down a lane.

Before I can leave the closed lane, however, I’m stopped by a man at least ten years my senior with a mustache and a baseball cap. There’s no way around it: he looks like a stereotypical kidnapper from a school safety video.

Man: “You’re a cashier, right?”

Me: *Baffled* “Yes, sir, but I’m on my break right now.”

Man: “I can see! Thank you for closing down your lane properly! So many people don’t do that!”

He continues talking about how rare it is to find a cashier who correctly closes down their lane until I make an excuse and scurry away because I don’t want to waste my fifteen-minute break.

When I come back, the man is talking with one of my managers. Then, he spots me and points.

Man: “Right there, that’s her! She turned off her light and put the chain across the lane! She did everything right! It’s so rare to see that!”

Seeing my deer-in-the-headlights look, my manager just nods and lets me get back to my register.

I see the man a third time several hours later when I am grabbing something after my shift. By now, I am starting to get suspicious of having an oddly complimentary stalker. After telling a few family members about the situation, they advise me to give my managers a heads-up if I see him again or if his behavior becomes inappropriate.

Sure enough, he is back the next day, in the same shirt no less, so I bring it up quietly with my manager when she has a spare moment, mentioning that I saw him three times yesterday over the span of my eight-hour shift.

Manager: “Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s with corporate, so he tends to spend a while here.”

Me: “Oh, thank goodness. I thought he was some kind of stalker.”

I even saw him in the break room a couple of times. I still feel a little bad for thinking he was stalking me, but when you’re a small woman working with the public, you tend to be on your guard!