I often have to get into the warehouse inventory to make sure we have the items we need when handling warranty replacements to send out to customers. My bosses and I mostly communicate via company IM as most of us work from home.

Me: “I’m going to assume that the inventory we have for coils is off.”

Boss: “Why do you say that?”

Me: “Because I don’t think we actually have negative thirteen thousand coils in there.”

My boss disappears for fifteen minutes.

Boss: “Well, that’s definitely off. We have some.”

Me: “Can I still put this sales order through?”

Boss: “Yes, I’ll deal with it.”

We currently are at negative fifteen thousand coils now. He claims he’s going to deal with it any day now.

This takes place around 2012. I have been at this help desk, tech support job for about four years now. I am the lead Tier 2 technician. Since no management works on the weekends, I am in charge of the half-dozen other technicians working with me. There is an escalation list of managers to contact should any issues beyond my scope come up.

One day, on what starts like any other Saturday morning, I arrive at work about ten minutes early. The two guys that work third shift are just leaving and everyone for first shift is coming in to get logged on the phone system to and to start working any older tickets.

The morning progresses like it usually does: a few calls early in the morning but nothing pressing. About an hour goes without any calls and we’re approaching the pre-lunch rush, but the phones aren’t ringing and any outgoing calls we’ve tried to make, no customers are picking up. About another thirty minutes pass and still no calls. We find this odd.

I grab my cell phone and dial the help desk phone number; it just goes to a busy signal. Oh, s***! Phones are down!

I grab the escalation list and see what manager is on call for the day and I call him using my cell phone. About twenty minutes later, phones are still down, but the manager is on the floor and he’s calling out to the phone company and then to his supervisor. With the phones being down, we cannot call out to customers to work with them on issues and we certainly can’t get any inbound calls to help customers with any current issues. So, the help desk techs and I just sit and wait for instructions from management.

Another thirty minutes go by and in walks a couple of the owners with our in-house techs to check phones on our end while they are still working with the phone company. Management and owners are trying to figure out what actions to take next because we cannot have downtime like this.

Pretty soon, one of the owners comes around and tells the help desk techs that they are working on getting some burner phones so we can start making outbound calls because it could be a few more hours before the phone company can fix the issue. In the meantime, the owner tells us that we need to start using our personal cell phones to make outbound calls to customers. They say they will reimburse us and pay us $50 to use our personal cell phones.

A couple of guys think it is a good deal, but I don’t. 

Me: “I am not using my own personal cell phone to make outbound calls to customers. Once customers get technicians’ cell phones, they are relentless and constantly call them. So, I am not going to be using my cell phone for any work-related calls to customers.”

Immediate Manager: “I understand, and I don’t blame you. I have customers who’ve gotten my number constantly trying to call my personal cell.”

About an hour goes by. The phone company resolves the issue and phones are working again, just about the same time that one of the other owners shows up with a dozen burner phones to use. With the phones up, we continue on with the workday without any other issues.

Along comes Monday, and after I get into work and to my desk, my manager tells me that his supervisor wants to see me. I head into the head manager’s office and he sits me down across the table from him.

Head Manager: “Why wouldn’t you make any calls with your cell phone on Saturday? You knew the phones were down and we needed to make calls to customers to work on existing tickets in the system.”

Me: “I already told you guys that I wasn’t using my personal cell phone to make calls to customers.”

Head Manager: “The owners said they would pay for your cell phone bill for the month, so I don’t understand why it was an issue.”

Me: “It’s my cell phone. Not a work phone. You guys don’t pay for it nor own it, and I don’t want customers to have my number to call me on my personal cell phone. If you want me to have a company-owned cell phone to use and make calls from it, I’ll be more than happy to do that, but I won’t use my personal cell for work-related calls.”

Head Manager: “Okay. Fair enough. That’s all.”

I head out to my desk and do my work, and after a few days, I forget about the incident and life moves on. Or so I think.

The following week, I’m once again asked to talk with the head manager for the help desk.

Head Manager: “The owners want to know why it was such a difficult thing to not use your cell phone a couple of Saturdays ago when the phones were down.”

Me: “I already told you. My phone. Not a company phone.”

I glare at my manager. If he can’t tell that I am pissed about being questioned about the same thing we went over about me using my personal phone for work, he needs to find a better position, because reading people isn’t one of them.

Head Manager: “They offered to pay for your time using your phone. We just don’t understand why it was so difficult for you to do. The other guys on the help desk used their phones to make outbound calls.”

Me: “I already told you! My personal f****** phone!”

People outside his office can hear me yelling at him.

Me: “You guys don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do with my phone and my property. I don’t appreciate you harassing me about it again.”

The manager sat there with his mouth slightly open and eyes as wide as can be. He took a moment to collect himself. Then, he thanked me for my time and said I could go back to my desk.

The issue was never brought up again, and a new policy was put in place that personal cell phones were not to be used for contacting customers. They would keep burner phones on hand should the phone system go down again.

I show up to my fast food franchise for an afternoon shift and find we are already knee-deep in OMG-ville. The lineup is huge, with lots of students and various other downtownies. I clock in five minutes early, wash my hands, and take stock of garnish.

We are almost out of tomatoes, low on lettuce, low on onions. I run to the back fridge where all the toppings are kept, only to see that things are so hectic that there are no backup bowls of garnishes prepared!

As quickly as I can, I make a bunch of bowls of lettuce and onions and bring those up front along with tomatoes and put away the extra bowls.

General Manager: “[My Name], you need to work faster! You were too slow getting up here with three bowls of stuff.” 

I try to explain that I was actually filling three or four bowls quickly so we’d have more when we ran out — every thirty minutes or so — but she just scoffs, turns her back on me, and barks at me to get to the cash. 

Roughly five minutes later, she literally starts screaming at me — IN FRONT OF CUSTOMERS — to get off the registers and get back to garnish. At this point, I have had enough and I admit, I snap.

Me: “[General Manager], I am sick and tired of being constantly belittled and badgered about every little thing. I’m doing my best to help my coworkers out and you screaming at me isn’t making things better.”

General Manager: “You don’t seem to value your job. I can easily fire you and find someone to replace you quickly.”

I guess she expects me to roll over and grovel for my job. That doesn’t happen.

I look her dead in the eye without even flinching. I am admittedly on new-employee probation, but my probation has been nothing but verbal abuse from her. This is still in front of all the customers and ALL my coworkers.

Me: “I can walk right out of this place right now and leave you deep in the weeds. The threat you made about my being under probation and how you can get rid of me at any time goes two f****** ways! I can quit without notice, too!”

She grabs me by the elbow. Yes, you read that right: she GRABS me. I’m not sure what she thinks this will do, but the one thing it does NOT do is deescalate the situation.

I shrug off her hand once and tell her not to touch me, but she grabs me again. I shrug her off again.

Me: “If you touch me one more time, I will charge you with assault. I do not want you to touch me, and you have no right to touch me. I have multiple witnesses, so kindly back the f*** off of me.”

She abruptly left me alone and was very cheery and kind to me, but I typed up my resignation that night and handed it to her the next day.

She got a hilariously panicked look on her face. Apparently, having her bluff called made her realize exactly how dire her straits were. She tried all sorts of tactics to make me stay, like telling me how I was leaving my coworkers in the lurch and how hard it would be for me to find another job, and when that didn’t work, she practically begged me to at least give her two weeks.

I told her to take the job and shove it. It wasn’t worth my self-respect.

Because we were chronically understaffed as it was, the look of sheer despair on her face as I walked out gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling. The fuzzy feeling got even warmer after I made a phone call to her higher-ups, with some very specific details. I never did see her at that franchise again.

Back in the mid-1980s, I was a junior Non-Commissioned Officer that worked across from a Major in a cubicle farm. I didn’t actually work for him — he had several dozen junior enlisted and NCOs working for him — but my desk was just the closest to his.

I was the single person in charge of tracking all computers and peripherals for the unit, and I was writing software and creating databases and procedures for a couple hundred new computers that were to be installed in a different building, so my BS tolerance was fairly low. The fact that I also reported to a full Colonel granted me a bit of leeway in my ability to get away with things.

The major stepped into my cubicle.

Major: “Sergeant [My Name], I need a copy of this floppy disk right away.”

Me: “Sir, can you ask someone else to do it? I’m kind of busy.”

Major: “No, you’re closest, and I need you to do this now!“

Me: “No problem, Major.”

I take the disk, walk over to the copy machine, slap the disk onto the glass, and make a paper copy of the disk. I hand him the disk and the paper.

Me: “Will there be anything else, sir?”

He looked like he was about to blow a fuse, but I just went back to my desk and continued my assigned duties. He didn’t say anything else to me, but I heard him go over to one of his NCOs and get the disk copied.

I did have to report to my Colonel to answer the Major’s complaint about me, but when I gave my side of the story, the Colonel laughed. The Major was also told that if he wished to task me with anything, it needed to go through the Colonel.

It pays to be a smarta** sometimes.

We have a manager who is the least sympathetic person on the planet; this woman has no empathy or compassion to speak of. I once called her crying in pain because I needed EMERGENCY surgery due to an impacted wisdom tooth worming its way into my temporal-mandibular joint, and all she had to say was that I should wait to get it removed until a time more “convenient” for her. Basically, a raisin is where her heart should be.

We are discussing a new employee who is graduating with his Ph.D.; I am throwing him a party.

Owner: “When is the party?”

Me: “It is going to be [date]. I will get lunch and the cake he requested. I don’t know what we will do for lunch yet, but it cannot have avocados as he is allergic.”

Heartless Manager: “He is allergic to avocados? Poor thing. I couldn’t not eat avocados.”

Me: “Yeah, well, it shouldn’t affect things too much.”

Heartless Manager: *Continuing* “You know, I haven’t heard of an avocado allergy. There is no such thing. I bet he just doesn’t like them and says he is allergic.”

Don’t worry; she has zero say in the food choices, so she won’t get a chance to check that theory.