I am a member of my company’s social committee. The head of the social committee decides to have a company-wide Pizza Day, and I agree to organize it. I am told what to order and what my budget will be.

I decide to order from a local chain that is pretty decent. Unbeknownst to me, this particular chain has a deal on its extra-large pizzas – if you order over a certain number, you get a discount, and the more you order, the bigger the discount. I am ordering a LOT, and the discount is substantial.  

When Pizza Day arrives, one poor restaurant employee delivers every single box by himself, which means multiple trips out to his car and up the elevator. He looks tired and stressed at the end, and on impulse, I add an extra $20 to his tip. Even with that in mind, we’ve still saved a lot of money, and I have come in well under budget. The look of joy on the guy’s face is well worth it.

A week later, I speak with the head of the social committee.

Head: “Why did you tip the pizza guy so much?”

I explain.

Head: “That doesn’t matter! You cost the company money!”

Me: “How do you figure? I spent less than our original budget.”

Head: “It’s not like delivering pizza is difficult! He didn’t deserve an extra $20!”

I feel sorry for anyone who delivers food to this guy.

I go in and out of the department manager’s office all day every day. However, because I’m part-time, I have not been issued a key, despite working there for over a year.

Today, someone from corporate is visiting the store. I knock on the door and she lets me in.

Corporate Worker: “Welcome to the department manager’s office, serving you since 2007. How can I help you?”

I’m an admin for a pest control company and am manning the office alone as my manager has stepped out for a morning meeting with some of the other local businesses to network. An older — bordering on elderly — man comes in and immediately starts speaking while still walking up to my desk. Bear in mind, I have shortened the conversation considerably.

Man: “So, why are you called [Pest Control Company]?”

Me: *Cheerily* “We’re named after our founder!”

The man starts fiddling with the various business cards and adverts on the counter in front of my desk, which I don’t pay too much mind to as they’re there to be looked at or touched, but he does continue doing so for the entire exchange. The man picks up the business card for our inspector with a distinctly male name; I am visibly female.

Man: “Is this your card?”

He continues speaking without letting me answer.

Man: “I’m starting a new business. It’s [Business Name containing “tech” which he says, then spells, and then gives the justification for] and I’m looking for some contacts that I can rely on when I need them. I know my name says, ‘tech,’ but I do more than that.”

He never elaborates on this.

Me: “That’s our inspector’s card. Here is the manager’s card.”

The man immediately speaks over me before I can ask any questions about his business.

Man: “And your name?”

I give it and he writes it down on the card.

Man: “I’m very allergic and sensitive to a lot of things. Do you have any products that are less harsh and won’t cause a reaction? What do you do for people like me?”

Me: “Have you added your name to the Chemical Sensitivity Registry? We are required by law to inform—”

Man: “I wasn’t done talking. People can buy all sorts of things from the store, but I’m sure you have stronger stuff for things like bedbugs and less harsh stuff for other bugs. Do you have anything that won’t cause a reaction?”

Me: “I wouldn’t trust—”

Man: “You wouldn’t trust [Pest Control Company]?”

Me: “No, sir, if you would let me finish, I wouldn’t trust any company that tells you they can do what you’re asking. There is no way to guarantee that no one will have a reaction to something. We can only take precautions, such as the Registry.”

Man: “Hold on, hold on. Do you have a Kleenex or something?”

I give him one.

Man: “I’m just nervous and my blood pressure got too high. I lived in [City a few cities north of here] in a gated community that was mostly Canadians, and you know, they can only be here 182 days of the year, so they would put down chemicals that are way too harsh for the environment to keep the bugs and weeds away while they’re gone. What would you, as an environmentalist, do to stop them?”

I am now thoroughly done.

Me: “Are you asking me as a person or me speaking on behalf of [Pest Control Company]?”

Man: “You, as the environmentally conscious person you are.”

Me: “You said it was a gated community, so there is likely an HOA; I would go through—”

Man: “But what would you do personally to make them stop?”

I refuse to rise to whatever bait he’s trying to get me with.

Me: “As I was saying, before you interrupted me, I would contact the HOA and, barring that, I would go through the appropriate legal channels or local environmental agency to address the issue.”

He’s now messing with the Kleenex.

Man: “One second, you’re making me so nervous. So, what do you think is the best way to address the drug problem in America? How would you go about stopping it?”

The look on my face must be answer enough, since I stopped smiling and dropped all cheer from my voice some time ago.

Man: “Right, right, I can tell you want me to leave, so I’ll go. You didn’t say it, but I can tell.”

He continued rambling all the way out the door. The man never left his name or his own card, just his convoluted business name. My manager returned not a minute later and I informed him of the crazy-person bullet he had just dodged and gave him the business name to avoid, should it ever happen to pop up.

I am a system admin for a small manufacturing company that gets purchased by a much larger corporation; I’m not sure why exactly. As part of the buyout, in email and across the company, it states all employees that are retained keep the requested days off and holidays for that year.

As my wife is going to have some major surgery, I have requested to take a week off and had it all approved. I have my backup lined up: [System Admin #2] and [IT Tech]. 

The new company merges the IT department with HR and I meet my new boss as the old HR staff was all let go. At our first meeting, [New Boss] gives a long-winded spiel about how great the new company is and how they take pride in how they treat employees.

New Boss: “So, anything you think we need to discuss?”

I explain the situation with my wife and tell him that I will soon be taking a week off.

New Boss: “Not a problem.” 

He gives me some more company BS and a “my door is always open.”

I immediately send an email reminding my new boss about our conversation and the dates I will be off. His response is, “Yes, that is what we discussed. Thank you.” I learned to cover my a** a long time ago

Fast forward a month. Literally the week before I will be taking off for my wife’s surgery, [System Admin #2] is let go. I remind [New Boss] that I will be absent for an entire week and they will be without a system admin or IT support other than [IT Tech]. 

New Boss: “What are you talking about? You never told me you would be taking time off, and even if you did it was never approved. And since it wasn’t approved, you will just have to not take your vacation or whatever unimportant issue it is.”

I have a bad feeling, so I email [New Boss] and explain again that it’s a surgery for my wife, it is important, I will be taking the time off as it was approved by previous HR, and it was our first conversation. I also make copies and forward all emails pertaining to the conversation with [New Boss] and the email as part of the buyout — i.e. contract — to my personal email. 

New Boss: “There was never a conversation, and since you never told me and I never approved it, you will just have to figure something out for your wife.”

This email is copied and forwarded to my personal email.

Me: “It was approved prior to buyout and we did have a discussion. I will be taking that week off.”

I copy and forward this to my personal email, too.

Friday before I take the week off, this happens.

IT Tech: “So… Um, you did back up your emails somewhere that is not on our network, right?” 

Me: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

IT Tech: “Well, in case there is an issue and something happens to the exchange server and the backups, it might be a good idea to have some backups for… you know, since the buyout…”

He then walks away. I copy all emails, print them out, and forward them to a newly-created unrelated email account. I head home and have a nagging feeling, so I compose an email to the Corporate Human Resources of the company that bought out our little company. I explain the issue, mentioning that if I am let go while I am off with my wife, I will be retaining a lawyer — never mentioning I have proof of conversation with HR — and telling them they should look into it.  

Lo and behold, the exchange server and our backup get corrupted to the point of losing all the emails for the year. Hmm, suspect. 

I return from taking care of my wife (who is doing much better) and am immediately taken to the board room with [New Boss] and two people from Corporate HR. 

New Boss: “I am going to have to let you go, as you took an entire week of unapproved vacation time off so you could take some trip to who knows where, and we had a major system failure that resulted in a loss of all the company’s emails for several months, which is causing headaches for shipping and accounting.”

Me: “Really. That is odd. We did discuss my week off, as I told you it was for my wife’s surgery and recovery.”

I open my backpack and pull out a binder and a notebook.

Me: “You see, an email was sent to all employees about the buyout, and part of the buyout contract was that we got to retain all approved days off; it was sent out on [Date]. After I spoke with you on [date #1], I sent you an email reminding you. I also reminded you via email on [date #2], and [dates #3, #4, and #5].”

New Boss: “While yes, the first email is correct, there was nothing in your file about approved time off, and also, we never discussed it, and I can’t corroborate your story.” 

Me: “Here is the paperwork of the signed approval form from my old HR.” *Taking paper from the binder* “Here is a printout of me outlining our first discussion and all other emails pertaining to the approved time off.”

I slide over the paper, not to [New Boss], but to the corporate HR employees, who seem to have finally taken an interest.

Me: “Also, you will find that, since this is information only about me and not anything regarding the company, I did not break any laws by sending this information to my personal email.”

Corporate HR: “Can you step outside? We will call you back in shortly.” 

To cut this already long story short, I was called back in, and after a lengthy discussion and the revealing that [IT Tech] also had some emails about being told to do some maintenance on the exchange server and backup, [New Boss] was promptly fired.

[IT Tech] was promoted to Temp System Admin, and his schooling was paid for him to get the correct degree.

As for me, after some heated discussion between me and corporate that mentioned a lawsuit, I was given a decent “bonus,” as well as a severance package — along with a non-disclosure agreement. I was able to easily find another job in my career field and am much happier.

I’ve been working for a local optician since I was thirteen. I started by doing their filing on Saturday mornings and progressed to doing full Saturdays or Sundays, working with customers selecting glasses and doing the pre-screen tests.

Eventually, I’m promoted to Sunday manager when I’m sixteen. This isn’t a big role and I’m mostly given it because often I’m the only permanent staff member working with one or two external contractors. Really, all it means in practice is that I have shop keys and the alarm codes.

This takes place on a Friday when the normal manager and the owner both aren’t around. It isn’t really a problem as we all know our tasks and everything has been fine until closing procedures. The team today includes me, a few others who are in their twenties, and a man in his late fifties who isn’t a manager but took the shop keys from the owner when he left.

Importantly, we all have the same status in the business; the older man has the same training level as I do. The shop closes at 5:00 but we’re paid until 5:30 to finish closing out. It’s currently ten past 5:00 and I’m doing paperwork, not noticing that a lot of others have already left.

Older Man: “Okay, stop what you’re doing. We can finish the last bits tomorrow. A few of us have a train to catch so we need to go.”

I’m doing closing paperwork.

Me: “Oh, it’s okay, [Older Man]. I’ve got my keys so I’ll finish this bit up and I’ll lock up.”

Older Man: “No, we need to go now. I can’t miss my train.”

Me: “No, it’s fine. You can go, and so can anyone else who has a train, because I have keys to lock up.”

Older Man: “No, I need to show you out of the building.”

Me: “Why? I have my own keys and I lock up by myself on Sundays.”

Older Man: “Don’t argue with me!”

Me: “But I don’t have anywhere to be, and if I don’t finish this paperwork, [Owner] will be really angry. We are paid for another twenty minutes, anyway. I’ll finish this and do the last closing out bits, but it won’t take long, so you can go. It’s fine for me to lock up; I do it every weekend.”

Older Man: *Shouting* “I will not be spoken to like that!”

Me: “Like what? I’m saying go get your train; don’t worry about me.”

Older Man: “That’s it! Go and get your coat and bag and get out! I’m not leaving you alone in the building!”

He’s about an inch away from my face and shouting. I’m sixteen and not used to confrontations, I also suffer from social anxiety disorder, so this is a huge situation. I feel my throat starting to tighten, so I wordlessly leave what I was doing and walk upstairs to get my coat.

Older Man: “Go! Faster! You’re making us all wait for you!”

Me: *Crying* “You don’t have to wait for me!”

Older Man: “Go! F****** H***, WHY DON’T YOU LISTEN!”

I grab my bag, accidentally leaving some of my things behind in a panic, and practically run out the door, still crying.

The next day, I’m called into the owner’s office and I expect it to be because of the unfinished paperwork.

Me: “Yes, [Owner]?”

Owner: “I want to speak to you about your behaviour yesterday. [Older Man] said you were really rude to him.”

Me: “What?! No, that’s not what happened! He wanted to leave early because of his train and I told him he could go but I needed to finish things up so I would stay and lock up.”

Owner: “That’s not what I was told, and it doesn’t matter anyway; I won’t have people arguing here. You need to go and apologise.”

Me: “I’m not going to apologise for offering to cover for him while he left early and being shouted at.”

Owner: “I’m telling you to go and apologise. If you don’t, well…”

He trails off but glares at me in a meaningful way.

Me: “No, I’m not going to.”

Owner: “Then I guess you’ve made your decision. Good luck finding another job at your age.”

I walked out of his office and then out of the store without speaking to anyone, upset and very angry but too righteous to ever apologise when I hadn’t done anything wrong. I wrote my resignation letter that night, and then I updated my CV and emailed it to a few rival opticians. 

Thankfully, because I had years of experience and had been trained on everything that didn’t require a degree, from pre-testing to dispensing and fitting glasses despite having the low minimum wage and salary expectations of a teenager, I had a job offer within two days.

I’ve since been back to that optician as it was the cheapest place to get new glasses and the older man came over to say, “No hard feelings, eh?” I blanked him and walked away.