(I work in a computer store where the cashiers are tracked on how many emails they “capture.” It is based on a percentage; for example, if I have the potential to capture a hundred customers but only get ten, my ranking is 10%. It is a very screwed-up system because if some cashiers only have the potential to get one customer and get that email they receive 100%. This happens a lot to the people working at the service desk. Due to the fact that I am very fast, I always check out the most customers but have a low capture rate because of this. My store manager has pulled me in to discuss how I can do better.)

Store Manager: “You’re just not contributing enough to this company. There is no reason you shouldn’t be getting a better percentage ranking.”

Me: “Well, I check out the most customers, so my ratios would be harder to hit. I mean, I checked out over two hundred people and captured almost sixty emails.”

Store Manager: *pulls our ranking sheet* “You see, [Corwoker #1] has 100% and you work the same shifts.”

Me: “Yes, we do, but he works over at the service desk. You can see he only had the option for five customers and only got five emails.”

Store Manager: “That is no excuse.”

Me: “So, let me just get this straight. I captured sixty emails but he only captured five, but because he received 100% he is doing more for the company than I am?”

Store Manager: “YES!”

(I walked out of the office at that point. Another time when I had busted my butt one day my front end supervisor said that out of everyone I needed the most improvement because of my email captures. If you looked at the list, I had the highest amount of email captures, but it was only maybe 60% of the customers I had, so my ranking was the lowest. But what does that matter when my coworker over here got one of one and had 100%?)

(I work as a manager in a tutoring center. At first, the owner makes it very clear how much she values me, but as time goes on, she begins to micromanage and scapegoat me whenever she feels stressed about the state of the business — it isn’t doing well. She writes me up for putting a pen in the cup next to the one designated for pens, one of the rugs having a corner folded over, and a canister of wet wipes being left slightly ajar by someone else.)

Manager: “If you were detail-oriented, you would have noticed and closed it.”

(She writes me a schedule for the day broken into thirty-minute increments with every individual task allotted a certain amount of time. She does this because I “need structure,” but she often completely ignores the appointments I have set with parents or school officials when she puts the schedule together. Also, she has a very limited understanding of our computer system, so her time breakdowns are often completely arbitrary. I do my best to complete the tasks set, often staying an hour or more after closing, but she isn’t satisfied. She demands that I give her a detailed written explanation of what I have done — and why it has taken so long — because I obviously am not being efficient with my time. One of her favorite things to do is to tell me that she is looking for someone more organized to help take over some of my duties, because she knows that isn’t my strong suit.)

Manager: “You know I want to make this work, but I need to have someone who’s detail-oriented.”

(One day, she lets me know that she’s hired someone who she hopes will be able to “pick up the slack.”)

Me: *cheerily* “I think that’s actually great timing since I am giving my two weeks’ notice.”

Manager: *gulps and stares at me* “T-two weeks?”

Me: “Yes, my last day will be on [date]. I’ll be happy to help train the new staff member.”

(She gets up and walks out of the office for several minutes before coming back and saying:)

Manager: “I— I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.”

(She proceeds to beg me to come back and help, even if only for an hour at a time, after the two weeks are over. After a moment’s thought — and the offer of a considerable raise — I decide that I’m not opposed to pitching in every so often. First, though, I plan to take several weeks off after my official “last” day. When I come back from my vacation, she says:)

Manager: “Thank you for coming, [My Name]. We were lost without you!”

(She wasn’t exaggerating; they were failing to collect tuition, missing meetings with parents, and under- or overbooking teachers’ schedules. And the new person she hired? She showed up late, begged off early, and demanded a vacation one week into working for the center. But at least she was detail-oriented.)

(I work in an IT support office. One day, we have an emergency at one of our data centres across the street from our office. A colleague is sent to deal with it. This takes place at the team meeting the next morning.)

Manager: “[Colleague] did well with that incident at [Data Centre] yesterday. Just bear in mind, if we do get any emergencies or incidents like that, I’ll just tap someone on the shoulder and whack them off.”

(There’s a heartbeat, and then the team collectively loses it. My manager realises exactly what he’s said.)

Manager: “I could have phrased that better.”

(I am a lot attendant for a local grocery chain. It has been six months since I transferred to a location closer to my house. Most of the supervisors in the front end are friendly, except for one, a very impolite young woman about my age. One day, I’m scheduled from noon to six pm on a particularly hot day. It’s pretty busy today, but there is plenty of staff on hand. I’ve been pushing carts for about three hours when I decide to ask about my break at three.)

Me: “[Supervisor #1], can I take my break?”

Supervisor #1: “You’ll have to ask [Supervisor #2]; I’m almost done for the day.”

(He’s referring to the rude supervisor.)

Me: “Hey, [Supervisor #2], may I take my break?”

Supervisor #2: “Can you give it about thirty minutes? It’s kind of busy right now.”

Me: “Okay.”

(I go back outside and resume pushing carts. Thirty minutes later…)

Me: “May I take my break now?”

Supervisor #2: “Not yet. Give it another thirty minutes.”

(I go out for thirty more minutes and come in at 4:00.)

Supervisor #2: “Before you ask, no, you may not take your break yet. Go back outside, please.”

(After thirty more minutes of cart pushing, I come inside. It’s finally started to die down.)

Supervisor #2: “Back outside. You may not take your break yet.”

(Thirty minutes later, I’m absolutely exhausted. When I go inside…)

Me: “[Supervisor #2], I’ve been working for five hours straight. It’s started to die down, so may I please take my break?”

Supervisor #2: “You know what? I’m sick and tired of you bothering me about your break, so guess what? You’re not getting your break today.”

Me: “But… you can’t do that! All associates are entitled to a break!”

Supervisor #2: “Breaks are not mandatory. You know that as well as I do. If I hear one more word on the matter, I will issue documentation. Do I make myself clear?”

(I reluctantly nodded and went back outside. My last hour of work that day felt like an eternity. The next day, the assistant manager called me and [Supervisor #2] into the office. Incredibly, I was chewed out for not taking my break that day, even though it was no fault of my own. Thankfully, [Supervisor #2] didn’t get off scot-free, either; she was written up for intentionally violating the store’s break policy, which stated that even though breaks AREN’T mandatory, workers cannot be FORCED to skip them. She didn’t last much longer after that; a couple of months later she was forced to transfer to another store due to a second violation of the break policy.)

(My boss at this time is a very arrogant individual; he is very full of himself and likes to pretend that the world snaps to attention and answers his every whim. Another thing to note is that all of the supervisors and quality staff are required to have a radio, and we are not allowed to turn them off while on the clock.)

Boss: “[My Name], this is [Boss].”

Me: “Go for [My Name].”

Boss: “Where are you right now?”

(Not wanting to give the whole plant a mental picture they can’t unsee…)

Me: “Indisposed. I can meet in five minutes; just tell me where.”

Boss: “But where are you right now?”

Me: “Not currently available.”

Boss: *furious and demanding* “[My Name], tell me where you are, and what you are doing, right now.”

(Okay, Boss, you asked for it…)

Me: “I am currently in the fourth stall from the door in the east bathroom, sitting on the toilet and feeling much better.”

(There is a long pause on the other end of the line. I am well aware that everyone with a radio has heard our conversation.)

Boss: *much more quietly* “When you are finished, please see me in my office.”

Me: “Of course. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

(I don’t remember what was so important, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t have waited five minutes. But he never pressed me over the radio again.)