It’s a wet, windy Saturday night in December and we decide to order two pizzas from our regular place half a mile away. We are told it will be with us within forty-five minutes. An hour and a quarter later, I call to inquire where the pizzas are.

Employee: “It’ll be at least another forty-five minutes. We’re really busy and we only have one driver on a moped. We’re getting concerned about going out anymore because it is getting windier and windier.”

I wonder why they didn’t plan for this and employ more than one person — maybe someone with a car — on one of the busiest nights of the week. Oh, well. We’ll sit and wait.

One hour later, the pizzas still haven’t arrived, so I call the store again. This time, the manager answers. I can hear phones ringing constantly in the background; obviously, everyone else is calling to see where their pizzas are!

Manager: *Frazzled* “If you want your pizzas now, you can come and collect them. They’re already out of the oven and just waiting on the side.”

I reluctantly agree and walk the half-mile in the wind and rain storm to collect my partially cold pizzas. The manager tells me that he will put a note on my account so I will get a free pizza next time. I reheat the cold pizzas in my oven at home, and finally, about three hours after ordering, we get to eat the pizzas!

On the receipt is a “How did we do?” survey offering loyalty points and a competition entry. I fill it in, saying how service was disappointing this time, which is a shame as it is usually great, and send it off. Nothing horrible, just honest.

Two weeks later, we decide to redeem the offer of free pizza and order from the store again. The employee I speak to sounds confused at a note he is reading on the system and puts me onto the manager.

Manager: “How could you have the nerve to call up again and demand free pizza?!”

Me: “You offered us the free pizza after our long wait last time.”

Manager: “Well, since you gave us a bad review, I’ve changed my mind!” *Laughs* “You don’t get anything. Those surveys aren’t anonymous. They get sent to the area manager, and the area manager berated me about that night’s bad results!”

Me: “So, because I filled in the survey and you didn’t like it, you feel that you need to punish me? Even though I’ve been a regular customer and spent over £400 in your store in the last four years I’ve lived here? You’re willing to lose a customer over this?”

Manager: “Yes, and I don’t care. You’re not going to get free pizza from me.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll just go to [Competitor Pizza] from now on. Goodbye.” 

Upon putting the phone down, I went online and gave them a scathingly bad — but honest! — public review. And, true to my word, I have never ordered pizza from them again.

I work in a coffee shop, my first chain coffee shop after working only at local or family-run ones. Simply put, it is h***. The owners micromanage everything without knowing anything about how the business runs, never listen to their staff, and only care about the money. Typical out-of-touch owners of a business.

I was hired to replace a manager that walked out of one of their locations, leaving it with only part-time staff. I was told I was being hired on as the “acting manager” until they either hired someone else or they felt I would be a good fit for the position after my six-month probation.

I am expected to cover all no-shows, which has me working 90 to 100 hours a week. I’m not allowed to fire anyone, no matter how many things they do wrong — someone actually showed up to work drunk and I STILL wasn’t allowed to fire them — and any changes I want to implement are shot down, like replacing old parts in the espresso machine, shortening our hours to save money on labor, bringing in items that customers would always ask for, etc.

I am stressed, overworked, and irritated as h*** when the owner comes in to talk to me about sales for the store.

Owner: “We aren’t making enough to warrant the hours you have scheduled, and I’m not going to pay you for overtime anymore. You will work only the hours you’re scheduled, and if anyone no-shows, you have to have someone else cover those shifts.”

Me: “I only come in when no one else will cover; it just so happens that the people you’ve allowed to continue to work here have terrible availability. Making the schedule is already hard enough; getting someone other than myself to come in on their day off is next to impossible. On top of all that, I’ve had to learn the ropes myself. There was no one to train me, so all the managerial knowledge, ordering, scheduling, I learned myself. No one other than me knows how to order coffee or has the numbers for the repair guys. I’m the only one who knows how to do anything other than making coffee and using the till.”

Owner: “All I’m hearing are excuses. This is your store. If you can’t handle running it, I’ll start looking for someone who will.”

Me: “Wasn’t that the plan, though? It’s been three months since my probation period ended and you never gave me the manager position, so I assumed you were looking for someone to take over.”

Owner: “I think it’s in your best interest to take some time off. Start thinking about your position here and whether you actually want to start moving up.”

Me: “I can’t. There’s no one to cover me.”

Owner: “You’re taking this time off.”

Me: “Is this a paid break?”

Owner: “No, consider this a time-out for you to get yourself sorted. Take two weeks to rest and we’ll see what your position will be like when you get back.”

Me: “[Owner], I can’t really afford to take that amount of time off. I can’t even take two days without having to come in and cover.”

Owner: “Don’t worry about the business right now. It’ll run without you.”

I am basically the manager at this point. I make the schedules. I do the orders. I know the codes to the safe and the alarm. I haven’t been allowed to hire someone to assist me and no one has worked enough time to be able to cover even half my shifts. I know this, the staff knows this, and the customers know it.

I make sure to block all work numbers and spend my two weeks off looking for another job. I manage to find one after a few days that pays significantly more. I send my resignation email to payroll and the owner — knowing he never checks it — delete my account off the POS system from home, and spend the rest of the leave catching up on well-deserved sleep.

According to my coworkers, s*** starts going wrong the next day. One of the openers doesn’t show and the next staff member doesn’t have keys. [Owner] isn’t answering his phone so they leave a message. [Owner] doesn’t show up until four hours after they were supposed to open, after one of the regulars calls him asking if the place is closed down.

Orders aren’t done, inventory is missed, four no-shows — you name it, it goes wrong.

[Owner] tries every way he can to get a hold of me, even using a customer’s phone to call me. Too bad I don’t answer any calls that aren’t already in my contacts.

After my weeks are up, I turn my phone back on and get a call the same day from [Owner]. We agree to meet the next day.

Owner: “So, you’ve had some time to think.”

Me: “I have. It’s really given me perspective on my position here.”

Owner: “We can start you back on your normal hours for now, and we’re looking for a manager to take on more of your responsibilities.”

Me: “Oh, that’s good. I’m actually quitting.”

He is silent for a few minutes. I think he is waiting to tell him I’m kidding. Sucks for you buddy, I’m serious.

Me: “I’ve already emailed payroll and removed my login from the computer. Here are my keys. Good luck.”

And I left. [Owner] tried calling me a few times but stopped once I told him to check his email.

I’ve trained one of my coworkers to use some software. It’s not exactly hard, but you need to do things in precise order or the software won’t work quite right.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], just noticed a few blips in the data you sent over.”

Coworker: *Abruptly* “Well, I did it right!”

Me: “I’m not saying it’s wrong; it just maybe needs looking at, tweaking maybe. Let me show you.”

She sighs dramatically. I try to show her on her screen but she does all she can to not look. It’s a bit pathetic and more like a child being told off than a forty-something woman.

Me: “Instead of copying the data from there, if you copy from here, it will be formatted properly.”

Coworker: “Yeah, yeah.”

I leave it there. I don’t need her rudeness. She has had as much training as me; I shouldn’t even need to train her. The next week, more data, more issues.

Me: “Could you please resend that data? It’s not formatted properly.”

Coworker: “No. If you want it a certain way, then you do it.”

Me: “Okay, fine. Don’t say I haven’t made every effort.”

She mutters something under her breath. I ignore it and manipulate the data by hand. It’s not a big deal but annoying and time-consuming. I jot down everything she said and the times and dates for everything, because I know what is happening next.

The following week, I am on holiday. The reason I deal with the data after [Coworker] is that it is needed by a senior manager. I tidy it up more as a favour to him as we get on well, and that I know he is stupid busy.

I come back in from holiday to find several emails from my boss.

Boss: “[My Name], what is this mess of data? I know you help me out, but half of it isn’t even spelt correctly.”

Boss: “Sorry! Just saw that you’re on holiday and this didn’t come from you. I will address this with the right person.”

The third and fourth emails are to my coworker but I get copied.

Boss: “[Coworker], this data is not up to the standard that is expected; there are a number of basic mistakes that are not acceptable. Please redo this immediately and send this to me by the end of the day.”

The next day:

Boss: “I didn’t receive the data yesterday, despite making it clear that it was needed. Please send this ASAP or I will have to discuss this with your boss.”

[Coworker] took a few days off due to “stress” following this. Of course, she blamed me for it all. No one believed her, as I’ve trained many others without issue, and the fact that I documented everything just was the icing on the cake.

She continued to blame me and refused to be trained by me. As I was the trainer for many of the tasks, this just meant she couldn’t learn anything new. In one case, I had to train someone solely to train her. As all pay rises are directly linked to performance and the number of tasks able to be completed, she was just hurting herself.

I like to draw. I’m not very good but I enjoy doodling, mostly landscapes. If the weather is miserable, sometimes I take my break at my desk and draw.

Out of the blue, my boss and another manager approach my desk. They don’t look happy.

Boss: “Can we see your book?”

Me: “Err, no. It’s my property.”

Other Manager: *Sternly* “Come with us.”

They march me into an office. My boss motions for me to sit down. The other manager seems to be trying to be intimidating, but it’s not really working.

Boss: “A coworker has made a complaint about your drawing; they say you have been making fun of them.”

Other Manager: “That counts as bullying and we won’t stand for it.”

Me: “I just doodle; I don’t draw people.”

Boss: “Okay, but we cannot prove that without your book. We can’t force you to show it, but we might need to investigate, and that might mean suspension.”

Me: “Fine, whatever. Here, take the book.”

They search the book and find nothing, of course.

Other Manager: “He might have ripped out the page.”

Me: “Count them if you like; there should be 300 pages.”

They look at me, I guess to see if I’m being serious.

Me: “Go on. I haven’t taken any pages out; you can check.”

Other Manager: “I need to take this.”

Me: “No, that’s my personal property. If you want to count the pages, you can, but you do it in front of me.”

Boss: “I told you [My Name] wouldn’t do it. You can count the pages if you like but I’m getting a coffee. [My Name], you want one?”

I drink a coffee with my boss while the other manager sits and counts the pages. He finally finishes.

Other Manager: “Okay, 300. He was telling the truth.”

Me: “Look, I don’t know who complained, but it could have gotten me suspended. What are you going to do to them?”

Other Manager: “I guess I can have a chat with them.”

Boss: “No, you wanted to interrogate [My Name], so we do the same to them. After all, [My Name] might want to make a complaint, too.”

Other Manager: “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. We can do it now.”

I had a good idea who complained anyway, but it was confirmed when they took the office busybody away into a room. I couldn’t hear what was said, but it looked like a loud conversation.

I’m clothes shopping in the time of the health crisis, so no changing rooms are open. I pick up a jumpsuit I think is cute and buy it, making sure to keep the receipt in case I need to return it. I get home and try it on but it’s too long in the leg so I put it back in the bag. It’s out of the bag for a total of maybe five minutes.

The next day, I go back to the store to return it.

Me: “Hi, I’d like to return this.”

I place the jumpsuit and receipt on the counter.

Assistant: “Okay, I just need to get a supervisor to do that.”

She pages a supervisor, who comes up in a couple of minutes. The supervisor picks at the jumpsuit with the end of her fingers like it’s disgusting.

Supervisor: “Sorry, you can’t return this.”

Me: *Confused* “I only bought it yesterday.”

Supervisor: “It’s not in a resalable condition.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Supervisor: “Look here; it’s all dirty.”

She then points at one hair that has stuck to the fabric of the jumpsuit.

Me: “Ummm, okay.”

I was about to protest further when the supervisor walked away. I was furious but I just picked up my stuff and left. When I got home, I picked off the hair and asked my friend who was going into town the next day to see if she could return it. She got the same rude woman who, once again, picked over the item looking for some excuse to refuse the return, but she eventually gave in and did it.