It takes me about half an hour to walk to work. One day, about forty minutes before my shift, that day’s shift manager calls me.

Manager: “Hi, [My Name]. Can you get to the store in [Other City] for your shift today? They’re short-staffed.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but no. I can make it in to [My City’s Location], but I really don’t have the time to go further than that.”

Manager: “We really need you in [Other City] today.”

Me: “I really have no way to get there, though. I need to set off in the next—” *checks the time* “—eight minutes to even get to [My City] on time.”

Manager: “Then why don’t you get the bus?”

I checked later. It’d take me ninety minutes to get to [Other City] by bus, and my shift starts in thirty-eight.

Me: “I don’t have a bus route planned out, it’d take some time to figure out where I’m going, and I doubt I’d be able to get there for [start time].”

I was right. I would have gotten there over an hour late.

Manager: “We need you in [Other City] at [start time].”

Me: “I am quite literally not capable of travelling there in that time period.”

Manager: “Look, [My Name], are you going to be at [Other City] at [start time]?”

Me: “I’ll certainly try, of course, but almost certainly not.”

Manager: “[Store Manager] needs you to be there for [start time].”

He says this as if invoking the store manager’s name will grant me the ability to teleport.

This pisses me off because the store manager is actually a pretty cool guy and I’m sure he didn’t sign off on this BS.

Me: “I still can’t make it there. It will take me several hours to walk there. Do you want me to do that?”

Manager: “We need you to be at [Other City] at [start time], [My Name].”

At this point, I’m walking out the door of my house.

Me: “Okay, [Manager]. I’m leaving my house now. I won’t be there on time, but I’ll get there eventually. Is that good enough?”

Manager: “Can you confirm that you’ll be there at [start time], [My Name]?”

Me: “No. I probably won’t be. Now can I hang up to use Google Maps on my phone to find my way there?”

Manager: “You need to be there at [start time].”

I hung up.

It took almost three hours of walking through a bright, hot day to get most of the way there, and I had to take a break, sit down, and have a drink when I finally arrived, starting the shift hours late.

Also, I was at no point prior to this informed that working at other stores was something I would possibly be required to do in my job role.

I honestly figured [Manager] had promised [Other City Location] a worker, realised he didn’t have one to send and his a** was on the line, and tried to shift the blame to me by getting me to say I’d be there even though I physically couldn’t be, thus dodging culpability himself.

I am a secretary for a medical facility that funds other medical institutions. I am also responsible for their travel to conventions and conferences. There is a very large, very highly attended conference held each year to which our medical professional staff members are invited as presenters.

One such presenter just has to be incredibly difficult as she feels she is above us dregs and never lets us forget it. As a presenter, they are given certain hotels that are reserved for them at a reduced rate. However, most are nowhere near the convention site and they end up paying a crapload of money for cabs. (This is in the days before rideshares.)

I set up the travel for at least ten folks when I realize that, by a loophole, I can book them into the hotel where the conference is held, so I do that instead of allowing the conference coordinators to book them in heaven know where at the last minute (which they are prone to doing).

[Presenter] comes up to me and demands that I only book her into the hotels listed by the conference coordinators, and if I don’t, she will have me written up. So that’s what I do.

The day before they all leave for the conference, which is clean across the country on the west coast, [Presenter] finds out she is not only the only one not booked in the conference hotel but that she is nine miles away near the airport. And no, there are no more rooms available at the conference hotel. She is hopping mad and storms to my desk screaming about my putting her in a faraway two-star hotel.

Me: *Calmly* “You are in one of the three hotels the conference coordinators reserved for you, and you distinctly instructed me to only select those hotels and nothing else.”

She ended up spending more than $70 in cab fare to and from the hotel to the venue while everyone else only had to go downstairs from their hotel rooms. She almost missed giving her presentation because she was late.

Since then, when I’ve booked everyone for a trip, [Presenter] no longer demands I give her “special treatment” and lets me use my judgment when booking hotels.

I recently started working for a breakfast chain as a dishwasher. I used to only be scheduled in the evenings due to my class schedule, but I’ve started to be scheduled in the mornings. I feel a bit walked over when it comes to this, and I have been trying to come up with a way to stand up for myself.

During one shift, I notice that there are periods of time when the servers are getting breaks despite the rush of customers, while I (and the others in the back of the house) do not. Because customers keep coming in, there is a constant rush of dishes that have to be taken care of for the entire shift, on top of the side work that I need to complete.

Exactly eight minutes before I am scheduled to clock out, I go to the front of the house to get some water. As soon as I lean on the counter, the manager walks by and notices.

Manager: “Oh, [My Name], you look tired! Do you need a break?”

I take a second to process what he’s saying, especially since he’s the one who made the schedule and writes it in multiple places, so he should know when everyone’s schedule is. I look him dead in the eye and get real serious.

Me: “I am scheduled here until two o’clock. I’m supposed to go home soon.”

Manager: “Oh.”

He tries to look away for a second, but I keep eye contact.

Me: “So, can I go home?”

Manager: *Pauses* “Yes.”

I didn’t get in trouble for talking back, and I’m really proud that I was able to stand up for myself just a bit.

This story takes place pre-[health crisis]. I’m doing a wire transfer for one of our regulars. He’s an older, fairly cranky lawyer who likes to pace back and forth rather than sit down and wait for a transaction to be completed. I called out sick yesterday and am back at work due to my boss giving me a guilt trip, but I am slowly realizing that I should’ve taken a second day off. I have a horrible cough and body aches.

I’m filling out the paperwork when I feel the urge to cough. I turn away from the customer, grab a tissue, cough into it, toss the tissue, pop a cough drop in my mouth, sanitize my hands, and get back to work.

Me: “Just another minute, [Regular], and I’ll have your wire ready to call in.”

I look up and notice that he’s stopped pacing. He’s looking at me with actual concern.

Regular: “I heard you cough. Are you okay?”

Me: “Oh, I’m fine. Just a little cold.”

Regular: “Why are you working?!”

Me: “Well, sometimes you gotta go to work even if you don’t feel all that great.”

Regular: “No, no. This won’t do. You should be at home with a cup of tea and a good movie. Is [Manager] here? She can do my wire. I’m going to tell her to send you home.”

Before I can respond, he marches over to my manager’s desk, says something that I can’t quite hear, points at me, and waves his arms around. My boss gestures at him to sit down. He shakes his head, says something else, and starts pacing again. My boss comes over to my desk with a ferocious scowl.

Boss: “Why are you telling people you’re sick?”

Me: “I coughed; he asked.”

Boss: “And now he’s over at my desk throwing a fit because he thinks I made you come in sick!”

Me: “I didn’t tell him that. But, I mean, technically, you did—”

Boss: “Don’t start with me!”

I start coughing again.

Boss: “I give up! Go home!”

Me: “And you won’t guilt-trip me if I’m still sick tomorrow?”

Boss: “Not if you go home right now.”

Me: “You’ve got a deal.”

I grabbed my purse and walked out the door. The regular shouted, “Atta girl!” as I was exiting.

I felt worse the next day, so I went to my doctor. I had the flu and bronchitis. I was out for a full week.

Some years ago, my whole department went out to lunch at a Chinese restaurant. Everyone but my manager and I got the usual meh “fortunes” from the fortune cookies that weren’t even really fortunes. “You are talented in many ways.” Ones like that.

Manager’s Fortune: “The light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train.”

Ominous!

My Fortune: “You have gained the admiration of your pears.”

I asked them about that when I got home, but I guess they were embarrassed because they just sat there in the bowl.