(My general manager is a very nervous woman. I can’t say that I blame her; she has a lot of unfair pressure put on her by the company to change things that nobody can control. The guy above her, the district manager, is visiting us before the store opens. He absolutely terrifies her, and she typically responds to that fear by yelling at us or micromanaging. I am helping the copy center lead with some jobs that needed to be completed by the time the store opens for customers to pick up. A few days ago, corporate sent us files with sample banners to be printed and hung up in the vestibule to push some sale on indoor and outdoor banners. Corporate stated in their email that the banners were to be hung up by this day at the latest.)

General Manager: “[Lead], where are those banners? They need to be hung up today!”

Copy Center Lead: “They’re printed. I just need to finish these orders before 8:00.”

General Manager: “Well, they need to go up before we open.”

Copy Center Lead: “We’re working as fast as we can.”

General Manager: “They’re supposed to be up today.”

Copy Center Lead: *calmly* “They will be, but I have two customers coming in first thing and they need these orders done.”

(The general manager scurries away and we continue working. A few minutes later, she returns.)

General Manager: “Are you done yet? Those banners need to be hung before 8:00!”

Copy Center Lead: *still calm, as if soothing a child* “[General Manager], we will get them up; we are almost finished with these orders.”

General Manager: *half panicked, half bossy* “You have to do them now. They have to be up before the store opens! You had days to do it; they have to be up today!”

(She’s right; they did have several days to put the banners up, but the copy center is the most understaffed and overworked department of all. All of our customers love the lead and she has personally turned the department from a slow, money-losing department to an extremely busy, always profitable one. Unfortunately, the other people in the department either cannot or will not keep up her pace, so she is often left rushing to finish orders.)

Copy Center Lead: *slowly* “What would you like me to do? Make the customers wait, or put up the banners when I’m finished?”

General Manager: *really panicking now* “The banners need to go up. I don’t understand why you are always rushing at the last minute to get these orders done. Isn’t anyone else doing anything at night? I don’t understand why this is always an issue. The banners have to be up before the store opens.”

(Little does the general manager know, the district manager is standing behind her, mocking her with a “talking hand” and a screwed-up “angry face.” She turns around and he drops the act, keeping a neutral expression on his face.)

General Manager: *sees him and scurries off again*

District Manager: “What the f*** is her problem?”

(The banners went up, the orders were finished, and the store somehow avoided bursting into flames when we hung the last banner up at 8:01. If the general manager hadn’t always been so freaked out by anyone with authority over her, she could have seen that the district manager was a really chill guy who wasn’t out to get her. Yes, he’s had to be tough on her before, but that was after his superiors were screaming down the line at him.)

(My best friend and I are working at the same store. I work with our general merchandise, while he works in a specialized department that includes minor repair work and installation. On this day, shortly before his shift is set to start, I receive a text from him.)

Friend’s Text: “Hey, I was just in a car accident. Some guy rear-ended me. I’m okay, but I have to go to the hospital and get some x-rays and stuff. My neck and back are hurting really badly.”

My Response: “OMG! I’m glad you’re okay! I’ll tell [General Manager] for you.”

(I hunt down the general manager.)

Me: “Hey, [Friend] just texted me and told me that he was in a car accident. His neck and back are all messed up and they have to take him to the ER to get checked out.”

General Manager: *immediately panicked* “Is he coming in later?”

Me: “Um… I kind of doubt it…”

(It’s around 4:00 pm and the store is only open five more hours.)

General Manager: “Can you find out?”

Me: “Okay.”

(I pull out my phone and head back to where I was working.)

Me: “[General Manager] wants to know if you think you’ll be in later.”

Friend: “Yeah, no. I’m in an ambulance. My car is f***** up. My back is f***** up.”

Me: “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

(Lucky me, I got to break the “bad news” to the general manager. She rushed off to try to find coverage for his department, not saying another word about him to me. The accident was bad enough to more or less ruin his spine, and he’s still suffering from it many years later. He was put on light duty by a doctor and wasn’t allowed to lift more than five pounds. They discovered a long time after that his hip had been dislocated and have been attempting to correct it. Yes, he was not in danger of losing his life, but I’ll never forget how ridiculous her response to the situation was.)

(My store has just this morning had a meeting in which the loss prevention supervisor spent some time explaining his duties and emphasizing that no floor associate or cashier is allowed, ever, to pursue a shoplifter due to liability issues, but that we are required to report it immediately if we see theft. It is early spring and unseasonably warm. Seasonal workers are not yet scheduled, but a lot of customers are shopping in the garden center and I am the only employee on duty in that part of the store. I am behind a long counter adjacent to the exit door stocked with impulse-purchase-type merchandise, working the register at a closed-off end. The line to check out is ten or twelve people long. I am ringing up a man with two full flatbed carts of trees, planting mix, bagged fertilizer, etc., which are directly in front of me across the counter. Suddenly, a young man built like a football offensive lineman, a box under each arm, runs through the door of the main store and out the exit door by where I am working. A couple of the customers waiting in line run out after him. I immediately excuse myself to the customer I was helping and pick up the phone to page for a loss prevention associate or manager as I was instructed not two hours ago. The store manager responds, approaching the counter within a minute or so.)

Manager: “What’s the problem?”

Me: “A man just ran out of the store with what looked like two portable stereos.”

Manager: “You just let him run out? You made no attempt to stop him?”

Me: “Mr. [Manager], you were at the meeting this morning; you know I couldn’t have chased after him even if I was in a position to do so.”

Manager: “You saw him running; what stopped you from blocking the door?”

Me: “What? He was running, so there wouldn’t have been time, as well as there being a counter, a customer, and two large carts of merchandise directly in front of me! I was not going to risk hurting myself or someone else to vault the counter to try to stop a man twice my size!”

(The customers begin to chime in.)

Customer: *who I was checking out* “It happened so fast, I didn’t see anything.”

Other Customer: *who ran out the door after the thief* “Yeah, he had two boomboxes, and he jumped into a waiting car; there would have been no way to stop him, anyway, without someone getting run over.”

(The manager then took the details and walked back into the store, turning back and giving a final, “We can’t just let people run out with unpaid merchandise!” At least the customers were all supportive, telling me not to let the idiot manager get to me, as there was nothing I could have done, anyway.)

(We have a young staff member who only works on Sundays and always seems to get jobs that keep her away from the register. We are supposed to sign up a specific number of new customers per shift, and she rarely hits the target. Both the store manager and I work alternate Sundays with her; it’s the Friday before my weekend on.)

Manager: “[Coworker] hasn’t reached target again this week; she has to hit four new signups but is lucky to get one each shift.”

Me: “But she always has work that keeps her away from the counter and only has a four-hour shift.”

Manager: “Well, she’s just going to have to make more of an effort. She’s got to get to that target or I’m going to have to give her a written warning.”  

(It’s Sunday and my young coworker has come to the counter in time to see me put through a signup. She serves a customer who refuses her offer of a signup.)

Coworker: “I don’t get it. I ask every time I serve someone and always get told no. How do you do it? [Manager] told me that if I don’t hit target this weekend, I could end up with a warning.”

Me: “I don’t always get a yes, so don’t worry yourself too much. I’ll make sure you don’t get a warning.”

(About fifteen minutes later she comes back to the counter to collect some stock that she needs to put out. I am serving a customer who is filling in the form for the customer signup., I put my sale on hold and sign out.)

Me: “[Coworker], can you sign in on the register, please?”

Coworker: “Why, is there a refund?”  

Me: “No, it’s for this.” *starts entering the signup under her name*

Coworker: “Oh, my God! You’re doing that for me? But what about your target?”

Me: “I’ll make up for it on other shifts, and I still have four hours after you’re gone.”

(I managed to sign up two more customers for her, and then she signed one up for herself which made her target. I noticed she was no longer tense when asking customers. It was obvious they noticed, too, because she made one more sign up before she left and even made more the next weekend. She did thank me. I just don’t like bullying tactics foisted on staff by management who won’t nurture and help young staff members find their confidence. Neither of us lasted much longer at that job; she left before I did.)

Back in the early 2000s, our lab where we analyzed drug products moved to a new facility. This location was fully contained and boasted, among other things, an automatic washer for laboratory glassware — quite important when you’re analyzing stuff.

Despite this “state of the art” facility, some of us started noticing spots on our glassware. I, for one, began rewashing the glassware myself, by hand. My boss didn’t like my spending my time that way, but I managed to make it sufficiently speedy that he pretty much was unaware I was doing it.

Some years later, several of us were having trouble with our assays. Management basically refused to listen to our complaint about the glassware, and the problem seemed to get worse and worse. Finally, a young PhD took it upon himself to investigate further and determined that the spots on our glassware were not merely water spots — which shouldn’t have been there, anyway — but were residual detergent, quite capable of messing up many assays.

He then investigated the dishwashing facility and determined that not only were they not rinsing glassware with deionized water, but they also weren’t even rinsing it with tap water. It seems the washer was plumbed wrong and was recycling wash water where it should have used fresh water.

All of this could have severely compromised our analytical results — which were being reported to the government — but management just swept the problem under the rug like it never happened!