For my first studio job out of college, I worked at a high-end video production company doing animation and motion graphics. My coworker and I would go above and beyond, working so much overtime. (And we didn’t get paid for it. If I knew then what I know now…)

Our studio was working on a huge live event, doing multiple giant screen graphics, and we had worked for twenty-four days straight. Twenty-four days. Straight. (Never again.)

The event wrapped, we did solid work, and everyone was happy! I had the audacity to ask for a few days off in the middle of the week for my coworker and me.

Creative Director: “No. Just in case something comes up.”

We literally had no projects on the docket. Then, [Creative Director] came at me.

Creative Director: “I need you to do some motion work for [Video] by tomorrow morning.”

I was a little miffed but got right to work on it. I stayed late to get it done.

The next morning, I went to hand in the file to him. He was nowhere to be seen. 

Me: “Hey, where is [Creative Director]?” 

Other Coworker: “He went snowboarding.”

I had murder in my heart.

I work in retail. My shift lead, my manager, and I were working the closing shift together last week. I had just finished helping receive a shipment and was stocking the shelves, the lead was manning the service desk, and my manager was doing a walk-through of the store. We were the only three people in the store that night, and it’s a big store. None of us could see each other, and none of us except my boss had walkie-talkies. (That was a mistake!)

I finished what I was doing on the sales floor and came up to the front desk to talk to my shift lead. He grabbed me by the arm and said in a low voice:

Shift Lead: “Go find [Manager], now!“

It was out of the ordinary and super creepy.

Me: “What? Is she okay? What’s going on?”

Shift Lead: “Just go find [Manager], and be quiet about it. There’s a very sketchy-looking customer standing near the double doors with a cart full of merchandise, and I’m afraid he’s going to run out with it.”

I went to find my manager, and I had to pass the guy on the way. I put on my fake customer service voice.

Me: “How’s your night going? Are you finding everything okay?”

Customer: *Staring at me* “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.”

Once I was out of eyesight, I ran to the back room and found my boss. I told her what was going on, and we walked together to the foyer.

Shift Lead: “The guy ran out the door, and he left the cart.”

I started to go out the first set of automatic doors with my phone in hand to see if I could get a picture of the guy, his car, or his license plates.

Manager: “Hey, don’t chase him.”

Me: “Yeah yeah, I know, I’ll be careful.”

My dumb a** started walking out the second set of automatic doors to the parking lot when my boss YELLED at me:

Manager: “DO NOT GO OUTSIDE!”

She never, ever yells, so it scared me. I turned around and came back inside, and my manager escorted me back into the store and away from the windows.

Manager: “That guy was sitting in his car with the lights off, staring at you. There was someone in the passenger seat, and they were staring at you, too!”

I had seen the car in the lot but didn’t think anyone was in it. I don’t know how she saw the guy in there, but I’m glad she did.

My manager ended up locking the doors, even though it was still thirty minutes to close. She then rang up the guy’s cart, and it was over $850 worth of booze. We went to her office and filled out a report.

Once everyone’s shifts had ended, we walked together to our cars; nobody really wanted to be alone in the parking lot that night.

I’ve seen shoplifters, and I’ve seen sketchy customers come in near closing, but this guy was really weird. He gave off a really creepy vibe and scared the s*** out of my boss and me, and neither of us scare easily.

I used to work in a pet store with a phenomenal manager and an amazing team of coworkers. As with all retail, we all dreaded Inventory Day, though more so the following day of putting the store back together while still serving customers. Our manager was very careful to make sure all work was divided as fairly and evenly as possible, never failing to include himself in chore assignments, and we were encouraged to help each other out whenever possible or to ask for help ourselves if we needed it.

One of his stipulations was that anyone assigned to redress the cat aisle didn’t have to do any other organization since the cat aisle had the most small pieces of any section. On my second or third post-Inventory Day day, I was assigned to the cat aisle.

Unfortunately, our district manager had decided to visit our store that day, and he had a bad habit of getting in the way and generally being an unhelpful nuisance while thinking he was being “motivating.” I was working on blocking the canned cat foods (of which there were literally thousands in three different sizes) which anyone could see was going to be a time-consuming task, but I found I could make good time working from top shelf to bottom in a roughly one-foot block at a time.

I was at this for perhaps ten minutes before [District Manager] popped around the corner.

District Manager: *Cheerfully* “[My Nickname]! How’s it going over here?”

Me: *Amiably* “Slow and steady, but we’ll get there!”

District Manager: “All right, just make sure it all gets done!”

Me: “Don’t worry; it will.”

[District Manager] left, and I continued my careful stacking and sorting of the hundreds of tiny cans around me. Another roughly ten minutes went by, barely enough for me to finish the one-foot section I’d started on, and he came back.

District Manager: *Still cheerful* “How’s it looking over here, [My Nickname]?”

I was trying not to be rude but wondered how much progress he expected.

Me: “I mean, there are a lot of cans to stack, and I’m trying to make it look nice.”

District Manager: “All right, just make sure it’s done!”

Me: “It will be; it’s just gonna take a while.”

He left again, and I foolishly dared to hope that that was the end of it and that I could work in peace. I really should have known better, as [District Manager] was a micromanager who understood surprisingly little about pets or running a pet store.

Another ten or so minutes later:

District Manager: *Still cheerful* “[My Nickname]! Getting close to done yet?”

I was out of patience and snapped a little.

Me: “[District Manager], do you want this done quickly or do you want it done well?”

District Manager: *Startled* “I, um, I’d like it done well.”

Me: “Then shoo!”

I turned back to the wall to keep stacking my cans, and I saw [District Manager] quietly slip away out of the corner of my eye. From the next aisle over, in a tone that suggested he was shrugging, I heard my manager say, “I TOLD you to leave her alone.”

I did not get in trouble, and the cat aisle looked FLAWLESS.

This is the tale of the one and only time I ever actually complained to a corporate establishment. It was summer in the early 2000s — an especially hot one, where every day felt worse than the day before.

Our local [Fast Food Restaurant famous for the ice cream machine always being “down” — you know the one] would NEVER have milkshakes available, no matter the time of day. Lunch rush? Down. Evening? Down. Early morning? Down. And of course, no resolution was ever forthcoming.

Eventually, I got to the point where ALL I wanted was a freakin’ milkshake. It’s SUMMER! It’s HOT! GIVE ME A SHAKE! So, I finally broke down and sent an email outlining my complaint to the corporate offices.

In return, I ended up getting a few vouchers for a free value meal of my choice. I mean… great, but it’s still not a shake. Whatever.

I finally decided to use one of them, and when I went through the drive-thru and presented the voucher, I was subsequently presented with the manager.

Manager: “How did you get this?!”

Me: “I complained to corporate because your ice cream machine has been ‘down’ all summer?”

Manager: “And did you ever think to just talk to me about it?!”

Me: “Well… no. What were you going to do? Make it magically not be down?”

Manager: “Ugh. It’s people like you who make this job not worth it.”

She proceeded to nearly throw my food into the car and “slam” the drive-thru window.

Why would I think the manager was also secretly an ice cream machine mechanic? If the machine was truly broken all this time, that’s terrible service. If it wasn’t, and you just didn’t want to have to clean it later… that’s STILL terrible service!

Many, many moons ago, I worked in a building where the security team not only guarded at the front desk but also did physical inspections throughout the building.

The security director believed that his staff needed to do more inspections and that to do that he would need more staff and funding.

A part of his evidence for this was the rash of fires that had been occurring across the office paper waste baskets in the building — something his team spotted and dealt with. More inspections would help prevent such incidents before the fire alarms went off, saving the company from paying the fire department.

Unfortunately, despite being responsible for all the security in the building, he forgot that the building had security cameras…. which caught him starting the fires in the first place.

The security team got only one new staff member: a replacement director.