(I work for a well-known novelty store. Customers call the store to complain to the managers after their “horrible store experience.” We even get calls an hour after we open in the morning claiming they were just in ten minutes ago, even though no one has been in yet. We also have a manager who has issues with all the other females she works with so she never believes us.)

Manager: *answering phone* “Thank you for calling [Store]. This is [Manager]. How may I help you?”

Customer: *loud enough for me to hear while I am ringing up a customer* “I was just in five minutes ago and the employee in the tie-dye shirt was following me around the back of the store like a stalker! I wasn’t stealing! She was so close I could feel her breath on me! I want her written up!”

(I am thinking to myself that I’ve been at the front of the store my whole shift because it’s where I was assigned. Besides the customer I am ringing up, we haven’t had a customer in the store in for over an hour, so I’m not sure what they were talking about.)

Manager: “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I will speak to her and correct her!” *sets down the phone and has a smug smile on her face* “[My Name], you can’t follow customers around the store like that! You will be written up or let go if I get any more calls!”

(She is only an assistant manager and can’t fire me.)

Me: “I was in the front the whole time greeting. You were assigned to the back.” 

Manager: *getting angry with me now* “The customer wouldn’t lie!” 

(I just dropped it and finished my shift. This happened quite a few times; sometimes I answered the phone when the complaints were made and it seemed to be the same voice every time. The complaints always seemed to be about me or the other two female sales associates but never anyone else. When I eventually became a manager and my manager left, the complaints about the female employees decreased.)

(I work at a chain fabric store. Our manager is well-known for being rude and doing things wrong. She comes over to the cutting counter one day to tell a coworker to go to break.)

Manager: “[Coworker], go on your fifteen.”

Coworker: “Okay, after I finish for this customer.”

Manager: “No, go now. I’ll finish for you.”

(We always finish with our current customer before doing anything else, to make sure everything is done right. Not wanting to fight her, my coworker leaves for break. My manager turns to the customer.)

Manager: “How much?”

Customer: “I need a half-yard of this.”

(My manager goes to cut it and ends up leaving the end looking awful. She goes to hand it to the customer, who makes a face.)

Customer: “Could you do that again, please? I can’t really use it with the end like that.”

Manager: “Nope. It’s been cut so you have to take it.” 

Customer: “I’ve asked for it a few times and never had a problem.”

Manager: “Then I’ll talk to my employees about it. Not my problem.” 

(She prints the slip for the customer and then walks away. The customer is visibly upset. I go over to her.)

Me: *quietly* “If you go to [Website], it gives you a survey on your experiences here which goes directly to corporate. I’ve never heard of a rule saying we can’t recut fabric for you.”

Customer: “Thank you, hun. That woman is just… something.”

(My manager ended up being fired.)

(The company I work for wants each of its stores to set stock up in a particular way so they send what is known as a planogram — POG — basically a map of where and in what order to place stock. Each week we get a different section to do; this time it’s zippers.)

Manager: “We can’t make out how to do the zippers; I need you to try.” *hands me several pages with just rows of numbers written on it them* “We are so far behind and it has to be done but we have no idea what these random numbers are. We have made a start on the job but you need to finish it; you also need to serve customers.”

(I enter the aisle and groan as the zippers have been removed from the first two sections and dumped into baskets, unsorted, making my work much more difficult. After taking the time to read the POG, I realise that the numbers match numbers on the zip packaging, so I start sorting and placing zippers on to the correct hooks. Five hours later, I have almost filled two panels and have noticed that the third panel is mostly correct but has some colours that need swapping. It’s after closing time, but I keep working until the manager comes over.)

Manager: “How is it going, [My Name]?

Me: “Pretty good now that I have worked out what the numbers are. Here, I will show you.”

Manager: “No, I don’t want to know. Just leave it for tomorrow.”

Me: “But you need to know, if you are going to work on this before I get in. I need to tell you that the colours aren’t in our standard order but the numbers are.”

(I pick up a zip to show her how to match numbers but she cuts me off.)

Manager: “l don’t worry about it. As long as you know what you are doing, I will get [Coworker] to clear space”

Me: “No, please don’t do anything. Leave the third section; it doesn’t need to be completely rearranged and will only take about 15 minutes to do that and finish panel two before I move on to the last two sections.”

Manager: “Okay, if that’s what you want, but this needs to be finished tomorrow as [Boss] is inspecting the next day.”

(I get in the next day to find the manager angrily waiting for me.)

Manager: “I can’t believe you did this all wrong. You got the colours out of order! Can’t you do anything right? I had to pull it all off and try to start again”

Me: “You did what?”

Manager: “I started again because you couldn’t do it right. Now there’s no hope of completing before inspection and I will lose points because of you! [Boss] wants it done a specific way and I am not getting in trouble because of you.”

Me: “I tried telling you last night it goes by number and not colour.” 

(We turn into the aisle and I find that the first three sections are empty as is half of the fourth.)

Manager: “Hmph. How do you know that?”

Me: “By actually reading this–” *shakes papers* “–paperwork that you told me [Boss] wanted the zippers laid out exactly to. Make sure you tell her that you pulled all my work apart because you couldn’t be bothered following the instructions.”

Manager: *gasps and goes pale* “Oh, um… I’ll help you put it back.”

Me: “Okay, so, this is how to follow the numbers.” *starts to show her*

Manager: “I still can’t work that out. How about I leave you to do this and make sure you aren’t disturbed?”

(The work wasn’t completed for the inspection, the manager distracted her boss and purposely avoided that section, and I quit a week or two later.)

I am currently searching for a job. I currently work full-time, so I need a bit of notice when it comes to interviews.

One day, I come back from lunch and sit at my desk. My mobile phone has been ringing continuously and it’s all from the same local number.

Calling back, I’m greeted by an irate and rude man telling me there is no way that I will ever work for his company! How dare I?!

As soon as he stops shouting, I ask him what his problem is. He quickly tells me that I missed a job interview that afternoon. I search my call history and email and inform him that this is the first time I am hearing from him. I have never even been invited to an interview.

Suddenly, the man goes sheepish as he realises what has happened.

It transpires that he had organised an interview and had spoken to HR, the team, and everyone in his company. However, he had neglected to actually tell me about the interview.

He then tried to rearrange an interview… after shouting at me and calling me a b****. I said no.

I’d say I dodged a bullet there.

(I work at a popular grilled sub food chain. Currently, it’s five until closing, with a night manager and me on duty. We’ve almost finished cleaning everything and I’m happy we are getting out close to our closing time for once. Then, three guys in their forties come in. I come out of the back from washing dishes to see them ordering. As the manager fires up the grill, I cash them out and see that they have bought fries. Only one guy is paying, and since it is five until close, I assume they are getting their food to go.)

Me: *after handing him the receipt* “Would you like separate bags for each meal, sir?”

Customer #1: “What?”

Manager: *as he pulls me over* “They’re eating here.”

Me: *as I didn’t know this was allowed* “What?”

Manager: “They are eating here. They got dine-in.”

Me: “But it’s five until close. We have to honor that even if it’s five until close?”

Manager: “Look, you’re pissing me off. Just go work in the back; we’ll be done soon.”

(I leave because, hey, I don’t want a superior pissed at me, and I get the fry equipment back in order and make the three guys their fries. Once their footlongs are done, I bring their food to their table. The three idiots don’t hear me at first, as they are occupied with our television, which is playing football.)

Customer #2: *as I’m walking back to the kitchen.* “Do y’all have any ketchup?”

Me: “Yeah, I can get you some packets.”

(The guy doesn’t even say thanks. Whatever. I go back to the dishwashing area and reclean the bowls used to measure meat, the meat tongs, spatulas, spreading knives, bread knife, fry tongs, fry measurer, fry tin, bread pan, and fry scooper. The manager stays up front recleaning the grill and shutting down the equipment. Forty minutes after closing, the guys finally get ready to go.)

Customer #1: *to my manager* “Hey, sorry we kept you guys late. I’m in the business myself, and I hate when people come in just before closing.”

(He then leaves, without leaving a tip or anything more than his half-baked apology.)

Manager: “Oh, it’s no problem.” *as he brings me their baskets* “Here, clean this. Mop the line when you’re done.”

(He takes out the trash, remops where the guys were, and cashes the drawers as I sweep and mop behind the production line. The next day, our assistant manager pulls me aside.)

Assistant Manager: “Okay, why were you here until eleven? Because it shouldn’t have taken you guys that long to close.”

(I explain how we had customers come in and stay until 10:40, and how the night manager didn’t want to do any cleaning until they had left.)

Assistant Manager: “And what’s this about you and NM in a confrontation?”

(Turns out, the night manager had messaged the assistant manager and told her that, “I’ve discovered that [My Name] is afraid of me. He was annoyed at late customers and I told him that he was pissing me off and to go work and he did.” Unfortunately for him, I’ve now learned he has no power to fire me after assurances from the assistant manager. But you’re a real badass, [Night Manager], for shouting at a teen worker under you and bragging about how you’re so terrifying.)