(A drunk man has entered our store and asked a few customers for money.)

Manager: “You can’t do that here; you need to leave.”

Man: “But I lost my wallet and I just need some bus fare. Can you give me some?”

(He walks over to stand in front of the manager where there are shelves and our registers between him and her. He’s so drunk he leans against the shelves.)

Manager: “No, I want you to leave now.”

Man: *on his way out* “Some b****** stole my wallet and I just need a little money to get home.”

(He approaches a few passersby outside the store.)

Manager: “That’s it. I’m calling the police”

(She rings the police and as I’m serving I hear her say that the man threatened staff and customers, and she hangs up the phone.)

Manager: “That will get them here quicker”

(By the time the police arrive, the guy has moved on. I leave the manager to talk to them while I keep serving, but can hear the conversation.)

Policeman: “Can you tell us what happened?”

Manager: “A drunk man came in and wanted money.”

Policeman: “He tried to rob you?”

Manager: “No, he asked customers for money for bus fare, and he asked me, too, because he lost his wallet.”

Policeman: “You specifically said he threatened people. What did he do?”

Manager: “He asked customers for money.”

Policeman: “But did he actually threaten anyone?”

Manager: “Uh, no.”

Policeman: “Well, why did you say he did? You know, you could be in trouble for making false accusations.”

Manager: “Oh… I’m [Nationality] and couldn’t think of the right words in English at the time because I was upset; I meant to say I felt threatened.”

(It was not the first time I’d heard her lying to save her own skin, but this time she realised that she could have been in big trouble, and on the occasions that I’ve heard her calling the police, she’s never tried that one again. She had come to Australia as a small child and had spoken English with an Australian accent for over thirty years.)

(I work in a large retail chain. In the back room, we have large racks of steel varying from about ten to twelve feet tall. As such, the top shelves are reserved for bulk items shrink-wrapped on pallets; we don’t need what’s on the pallets as often, and when we do, we can get it down with a machine.)

Assistant Manager: “Hey, uh…. [Coworker]?”

Coworker: “Yeah?”

Assistant Manager: “I’m so sorry… but [Store Manager] has a new rule about merchandise on the top shelves back here.”

Coworker: “What is it?”

Assistant Manager: “I’m so sorry. I’ve been fighting him on this for weeks, but he’s absolutely put his foot down. We don’t have a choice.”

Coworker: “You’re kind of scaring me here; just tell me.”

Assistant Manager: *long sigh* “All the pallets have to be taken down, and either put on the shelves on the sales floor or have displays made out of them… And then the top shelf has to have loose merchandise, same as the other shelves.”

(My coworker is stunned by the sheer idiocy of this.)

Coworker: “[Assistant Manager], no way! I’ll have to spend almost my whole shift going up and down a ladder putting things up there, if my legs don’t give out before I’m done! Also, do you have any idea how much that’s going to slow us down for every shift after? What if the system says I need an item that’s at the bottom of a pile on the top shelf? I’ll either have to take someone else’s time up handing items back and forth to them, or I’ll have to go up and down the ladder for one item each time until I can get to the one I actually need, and then go up and down the ladder again just to put back what I had to take down! I can’t tell if [Store Manager] is really this dumb or just actively sabotaging us at this point!”

Assistant Manager: “I know, I know! There’s nothing I can do; he won’t take no for an answer anymore. It needs to be done tonight. We have to deal with it!”

(At the end of the night, I check in with my coworker, where she tells me about the decision made and the conversation she had with the assistant manager.)

Me: “Oh, my gosh, that’s awful! I mean, I can’t say I expect much else from [Store Manager], but still. Are you okay?”

Coworker: “Well, I’m angry, my legs feel like jelly, and I’m not at all looking forward to next shift, but I’m just glad at least tonight’s over.”

(The morning shift workers start coming in and my coworker begins informing them about the absurd decision. The assistant manager pops around the corner.)

Assistant Manager: “[Coworker]! DEAL! WITH IT!” *walks off*

(The gas station I work at is part of a national chain that runs promotions. Customers receive a sticker for every unit of a set amount of litres of gas they purchase. With ten stickers, they can purchase a promotional item for cheaper than its normal retail price. To encourage us to promote the event, there are regional competitions between stations. The stations that sell the most items get a financial reward that is added to the budget for the Christmas party. Usually, these events run several months and the amount you have to buy for each sticker is so low that most people have ten stickers by the time they fill their car the third time. This is why my station decides to simply give ten stickers to each customer that buys the minimum amount for a sticker. None of the items — mostly gardening equipment or DIY tools — are good enough, rare enough, or cheap enough for people to be interested in buying multiples or buying them in bulk to resell, so we are confident that by doing so we do not create extra sales. Our main “rival” is a station that has a large number of commercial truck drivers as their regular customers. Our “rival” station wins the competition this time, with us as a close second. During a “stamp” event, a coworker runs over to me and another coworker.)

Coworker#1: “Guys, you will not believe what [Manager] told me just now. [Manager of Rival Station] went to the regional manager and complained that we were cheating by giving out extra stamps, and that we should be fined and permanently disqualified from every competition.”

Coworker#2: “What?! Wait. Wasn’t it [Rival Station] that asked their regulars to not pump their gas in one go, but do multiple purchases of ten euros each during [Event] so they could hand out more tickets? How is that fair?! They have all these truck drivers as customers. Do you know how many ten-euro purchases it needs to fill up one of those trucks? We only give one ticket per customer and car!”

Coworker#1: *grinning* “I know, and so does [Manager]. You want to guess who is now under investigation and has to return the reward they got for [Event Competition]? Not us!”

(As it turns out, what we did toes the line, but was considered acceptable. [Rival Manager], on the other hand, had broken the rules.)

Lesson Number #1: “It does not pay to be a rat, especially if you are the one with skeletons in the closet!”

(I have been serving a line of customers when my manager approaches me and starts berating me for not asking for the customer’s loyalty card. The customer had given me their card along with the stock they were purchasing; we are supposed to ask before taking payment.)

Me: *holds up card* “The customer gave it to me first; I’ve already entered it.”

Manager: “Hmph. You didn’t ask the last customer, either.”

Me: “They had their card ready, too.”

Manager: “Well, I’ve been standing here while you served six customers, and you didn’t ask a single one for their cards or ask them to join.”

Me: “They all had their cards ready for me.”

Manager: “Yeah, sure. That’s what you say.”

Me: *pulls up my transaction records on the screen* “Why don’t you take a look yourself? You will see that the last ten customers I’ve served have been cardholders.”

Manager: *in a sulky voice* “Well… you are supposed to ask every time or get them to join up.” *stomps off*

Next Customer: *holding her card out to me* “You better ask for me for this; I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

(It’s the day before a planned inspection and audit. One of the things we were warned about was that our lockers would be inspected, and if any stock was found inside it would be classed as theft and dealt with accordingly. I have two days off, including the inspection day. There is a staff member who is constantly trying to get me into trouble, but the manager doesn’t believe she purposely does it. As I am getting ready to leave work, my manager asks me to come in the next day to help finalise a few things.)

Me: “Sure thing. I can be here at ten, if that’s okay?”

Manager: *standing in front of lockers* “That’s great. Now let’s get out of here.”

Me: “Oh, I almost forgot my jacket. It’s in my locker; could you pass it to me? It’s unlocked.”

Manager: *opens my locker* “Very good — a nice empty locker.”

(The next morning I get in and go to my locker, and I find that it has been stuffed full of stock.)

Me: “Uh, [Manager], could you look at this, please?”

Manager: “What the…? I know your locker was empty last night.” *starts pulling out the stock* “I saw [Coworker] carrying these half an hour ago; I told her to put them away”

Me: “So, she put them in my locker?”

Manager: “Oh, she probably didn’t do it on purpose. You know we use the top row of lockers for storage.”

Me: “My locker isn’t on the top row, and it has my name written on it.”

Manager: “There’s no way she would do that on purpose. I don’t know why you can’t get on with her.”

(A couple of weeks later, the coworker decides to also take her wrath out on the manager, and after being pulled up on it, she walks out, sending a nasty resignation letter to try and get the manager into trouble. Three days of a lovely, peaceful workplace pass when the manager comes up with this gem.)

Manager: “You know, I think that [Coworker] was the cause of all the trouble around here.”

Me: “You think?”