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.

My boss had several computers sitting around the office that she wanted to get rid of. As the only person in the office who knew how to even run defrag, the task fell to me to yank the hard drives out per my boss’s instructions. 

There was sensitive medical information on them and they needed to be rendered unreadable. Opting for the quick-fix, I bent ALL the SSI connector pins, pulled the power connector pins out with pliers, and snapped off a handful of chips. 

Upon presenting the drives to her, she was still worried someone might read them. I took them outside and bashed them against a concrete wall. She was still not convinced. I returned a third time with a screw-driver driven completely through each drive. Her response:

Boss: “Well…that looks thorough, but I think someone might still be able to read them, let’s keep them, just in case.”

They are, to this day, sitting under her desk.

I started an admin job for an independent insurance agent. It was great (mostly) for the first four months. Then, my boss started getting weird over the next month or so.

She told me I wasn’t allowed to write things down; she said I should work on my memory. I wrote down notes when on the phone or where I left off with a task. I would have less than one notebook page full daily. She said it was a waste of time to write things down.

Then, I wasn’t allowed to have personal items at my desk. I had a tumbler, one photo, and a bottle of lotion. She then told a colleague that had been there for over five years to take down half of her photos and put the others in matching frames. I thought she was joking, but nope.

The last straw was a new policy where only one day could be taken off at a time, so no week-long vacations. She said this was because others may not be as fortunate and this cut down on jealousy. I submitted my two-week resignation the next day and was escorted out immediately.