The first job I ever had was working as a counselor at a riding camp at the local barn. I knew the barn owner and everyone there and would get paid in free riding lessons. Some of the kids could be difficult, but for the most part, they were easy enough to deal with.

We used to partner with a sleepaway camp; they would come once a week and we would give their kids riding lessons. It was really annoying to deal with because we also had to watch our campers who were bored and wanted to go ride. But whatever, we all understood why the deal was in place, so we did it without complaint. 

The problem ended up being the sleepaway camp’s owner’s daughter, who would come ride with the rest of the camp. This child was a literal nightmare. She would bang her doll on the stalls and scare the horses, even when we asked her to stop. She was eight and old enough to know better.

[Camp Owner’s Daughter] also thought she was way more advanced than she was. She would often not listen to the trainers in her lessons and try to make the horse canter, even though she still couldn’t walk the horse by herself. As such, we always put her on Doran, who was an older gelding and could basically teach the lesson himself. He was the only horse we could trust not to do anything when [Camp Owner’s Daughter] kicked him. She was not happy with us.

Camp Owner’s Daughter: “I don’t want to ride Doran! He’s boring! I want to ride Dorito!” 

Me: “The trainers are in charge of who rides who, so if you really want to, you could talk to them about it. Also, Doran is awesome! I love riding him!”

Camp Owner’s Daughter: “If you don’t put me on Dorito, I’ll tell my mom you hit me!”

Me: “…I’ll see what I can do.”

I was about fourteen and didn’t really know what to do, so I went and told [Barn Owner] and the trainers about what [Camp Owner’s Daughter] had said. They must have worked something out because [Camp Owner’s Daughter] did end up riding Doran and the camp was not invited back.

Related:
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 11
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 10
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 9
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 8
Some People Have Never Been Told “No” And It Shows, Part 7

Back when I worked at [Video Rental Chain Store], we would often cover other stores in our city — whether it was just because they were short one day, needed help with inventory, etc.

Another location was having their holiday party and obviously wanted all of their employees to be able to attend. They contacted our store to see if we could spare three people to cover their store from 6:00 pm to midnight. We sent one assistant manager and two regular employees. They got the keys and all the codes and were prepared to handle the evening.

Over the next few days, we started hearing chatter from the other store about something going wrong on that night. It was difficult to keep anything secret between the stores as a lot of people started at one location before transferring to another, and most of us remained friends outside of work.

It turned out that the assistant manager had made some changes to the receipts. We had the ability to add a message at the end of the receipt without approval from corporate — usually to advise of some promotion or something like that. For whatever reason, she typed in some rude message directed at customers. It was nothing blatantly offensive but definitely not something you’d want them to read. She meant it to be funny, but under those circumstances, it wasn’t.

The chatter was that this was a serious offense and that [Assistant Manager] knew there were going to be consequences, even though nothing was said by upper management.

Soon afterward, the store manager and district manager were there one day and wanted to know when [Assistant Manager] was scheduled. It was to be in another hour. They told us that they were leaving but to tell her to not clock in and to stay there until they came back. 

[Assistant Manager] showed up about fifteen minutes before her scheduled time, and we advised her of what the store manager and district manager had said. She saw the writing on the wall and just decided to quit instead, not wanting to get yelled at and fired at the same time, and just left.

The store manager and district manager showed up about a half hour after when [Assistant Manager] was supposed to clock in, wondering where she was. We said that she’d just quit and left. They both were stunned that she wouldn’t stay around at their direction.

I get why [Assistant Manager] had to be fired, but the amount of time between the incident and her quitting was about a week. Of course she was going to figure out something bad is coming. At the very least, they should have stayed around in the store if they needed to fire her.

One other employee got basically a slap on the wrist since he was aware of the changes to the receipt but wasn’t in charge. Nothing happened to the third employee since he was out on the floor the whole night instead of behind the counter.

I worked at a chain pet retailer. I always tried to deter small children when their parents asked to hold the smaller animals, and this story is exactly why. For reference, robo hamsters are about an inch long and weigh less than an ounce. 

Mom: “My son wants to hold a robo hamster.”

Me: “How old is your son? Robo hamsters are very quick, so—”

Mom: “He’s four, but I’ll be there with him.”

Me: “Are you going to buy it?”

Mom: “Oh, my God, no. I hate rodents!”

Me: “Right, so, if he wants to just hold an animal, might I suggest a guinea pig? They’re much friendlier, and—”

Mom: “Look, customers like me get your paycheck filled. Get us the robo hamster, or get your manager.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll be back.”

I go to get my manager. She is of the mindset that a customer is never wrong, so I let her handle these things. 

Me: “Hey, [Manager], there’s a mother with her four-year-old who wants to hold a robo hamster, but they’re not buying anything.”

Manager: “Are you afraid of the robo hamsters or something?”

Me: “No, but they are very fast, and every time we allow a small child to hold one, it goes missing.”

Manager: “Fine! I’ll do it.”

[Manager] goes to introduce herself to the mother and child. I follow with a small box. 

Manager: “Okay honey, here is what we have to do: I’m going to bring the enclosure down, and you can put your hand in and let the hamster come to you. We don’t want him running away, though, so don’t lift your hands out of the container, okay?”

Four-Year-Old: *Nodding excitedly* “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Are you watching, Mom?”

Mom: *Scrolling on her phone* “I’m right here.”

[Manager] brings the enclosure down and removes the lid. The boy shoves both hands in, and the little hamsters immediately come over to him. He cups one in his hands and lifts it so it’s in the air about a foot above the enclosure. [Manager] moves to guide his hands back to safety, but it’s too late. The hamster jumps and skitters off under another shelf.

The boy screams — whether he’s excited or scared, I don’t know. Mom looks up from her phone.

Mom: “What happened?”

Me: “It escaped.”

Mom: “Well, why would it do that?”

Me: “Well—”

Manager: “[My Name], go see if you can catch it.”

I walk off, knowing I’ll never see that hamster again. A few minutes later, [Manager] finds me crawling on the floor, looking around. 

Manager: “I don’t know what has gotten into you, but this has to stop. You can’t tell people they can’t hold pets, and you can’t make them feel bad when things go wrong.”

Me: “I am here for the safety and well-being of our animals over the entitlement of a woman and her child.”

Manager: “You—”

Me: “I determined that an overstimulated four-year-old holding the smallest, fastest hamster we have was a bad choice, but his mom wanted you. You determined that a four-year-old was capable of holding his excitement in check. This is not my fault.”

Manager: “Well… next time, just be more aware!”

Me: “Of what? What did I miss?”

Manager: “You could have… You know what? Just find the hamster!”

I found it a few days later, but it was not in any condition to sell. It went to the vet for a checkup but ultimately was not returned to the store. [Manager] finally decided that only potential buyers could hold animals, and anyone under twelve was an absolute no.

I was written up for my attitude, but I didn’t care; I was already looking for another job. When the new job asked for a start date, I told [Manager] I was leaving at the end of my shift and not coming back.

It’s my first day working at the supermarket after training. I am talking about this to my manager when a customer approaches us.

Customer: “I’m looking for the pyramid tea bags — you know, the ones that grow on the trees? I don’t want those artificial flat ones.”

Me: “Uh… pyramid tea bags don’t—” 

Manager: “Right this way, sir!”

My manager shows him the boxes of tea bags that come in a pyramid shape, designed to improve how well they infuse the water as they steep.

Customer: “Perfect! Thank you!” *Trots off happily* 

Manager: *To me* “If you know what they’re asking for, just take them to it. You’re not paid enough to argue with stupid. None of us are.” 

Related:
Choose Your Battles, Part 9
Choose Your Battles, Part 8
Choose Your Battles, Part 7
Choose Your Battles, Part 6
Choose Your Battles, Part 5

My friend and I work at the local waste management facility — the dump. They don’t treat us well or pay us what we’re worth, but the worst has been how my friend is treated.

Most people in our area are pickers/sorters; we stand at a conveyor belt grabbing paper, recyclables, hazardous material, etc., out of the garbage. It’s hard work, and some areas are fast-paced, but we can’t really fall behind because the belt doesn’t stop.

My friend has a different job, where he has to sort through all the cans and other random metal that gets picked up by a magnet, and also sort buckets of recyclables one of the picker groups grabs because their area goes too fast for them to sort them manually. If he finishes both of those tasks, he’s expected to join us in our areas and help until he’s needed again.

[Friend] is doing a two-person job, literally. When he takes a day off, they need one fully dedicated worker and one person who switches between picking and helping them. Everyone he’s trained who tried to do it alone has said that it’s a two-person job and nobody should be expected to do it alone, but [Friend] is because he’s capable of keeping up.

The guy who had the job before him couldn’t even keep up; he would dump half his buckets back on the conveyor belt if he got behind, which meant the pickers in other areas had to sort them and we’d get hit with a wave of stuff that made us rush. In the year since he started, [Friend] hasn’t dumped a bucket once. They even closed up the hole that the last guy used to do that.

We also have deep cleaning days once a month, where we don’t run anything and just clean everywhere. For months, [Friend] (and I, once I got hired) was the only one volunteering to do one of the hardest, most back-breaking, most boiling-hot-in-the-summer jobs, which was also super important because if it wasn’t done, the machines would break down.

Despite all of that, [Friend] hasn’t received any raises or bonuses. When he brought up that other people worked far less and made more, he was told, “They’ve been here longer,” and, “You’re young, so you can just do more than them,” and, “Everyone finds their own pace.” He didn’t mind the pace or amount of work — he likes going fast — he just wanted to be recognized and rewarded for it.

So, he tried to stop doing the extra work he’d been doing, going into our work areas to help us when he was done with his own tasks. Instead, he would use that time to watch movies on his phone; he had enough free time to watch an entire two-hour movie on most days. But the big bosses noticed it on the cameras, and he was told he wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. He also got reprimanded and had a performance bonus removed because he would wear an earbud while he worked, even though he was one of the only people without a radio to listen to.

During cleaning days, both of us started getting in trouble for not cleaning — after we spent three-quarters of the shift working our butts off, while other people swept the same pile of dirt for an hour or “supervised”, aka stood around in groups while one or two people actually cleaned. The two of us could finish a job in two hours which used to take twelve people four hours.

On one cleaning day, [Friend] got in trouble for goofing off by shooting a few people with a water gun. Sure, it wasn’t exactly professional, but it was all in good fun, and the only reason the incident was even noticed was that someone else sprayed a guy who [Friend] knew to avoid. That guy retaliated by spraying two people in the face with a bottle of concentrated sanitizer. Both of them got the same punishment.

So now, we’ve slowed down on cleaning days and get less done, and we find easier jobs to do to take up our time. And [Friend] no longer does the extra work because he’s too busy standing at his spot waiting for one can to drop every minute. He’s finally “found his pace”.