(We have to work a late night, so we decide to have some food delivered to our office for our staff.)

Me: *grabbing my purse* “How much do you need towards the food?”

Manager: “No, you paid last time; this time it’s my treat.”

(The next morning, it’s my manager’s day off, and I am supposed to be in charge, but the manager comes in to finish up some projects. I do the daily safe check and find it’s short by $100. I usually do this at the end of the day, but have decided to do it at the beginning.)

Me: “Ah, there’s a problem. I just counted the safe three times and it’s $100 short.”

Manager: *sly grin* “Oh. yeah, I used it to pay for the food last night… is that all right?”

Me: “Uh… no. You know [Security] is coming in today and will probably do an audit.”

Manager: “Well, I don’t have it; I’ll go to the bank after I leave.”

(Another manager and I had to empty our wallets to make up the missing money. If I hadn’t caught it, there would have been a chance of the other manager and I being fired and charged with theft. We made the first manager pay us back.)

(I have started a new job, and after I get chatting with my new coworkers, I politely ask what the manager was like.)

Coworker: “Oh… she’s okay, but a bit odd. You’ll see.”

(I am pretty worried about this, especially when the manager in question calls everyone into a meeting.)

Manager: “Morning, folks. Some minor bad news, I’m afraid. I’ve just had instruction from the head office that I’ve got to perform random locker checks every week.”

(Various people groan or roll their eyes.)

Manager: “Yeah, I know. Now, I want you to know that I trust you all, and I’m only doing this because the head office insists. I think it’s ridiculous and insulting, to be honest. So, I’ve decided we can have a bit of fun with it.”

(She gives a wicked grin.)

Manager: “Every week, I want you to hide the silliest things you can think of in your lockers. The person who makes me laugh the most will get a prize; bar of chocolate or a beer, depending on which they prefer.”

(Alas, I didn’t win the prize that week. My coworker won a beer after she found a well-filled sack with a sign saying “Totally not stolen goods” in his locker. However, I won the week after, thanks to a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs! The competition continued for about six months, before the head office decided to stop the locker checks. It was a shame; a coworker and I had just got hold of some prank springy snakes. So much wasted potential…)

(We have a new manager hired and she’s very nice, but seems naive. Our hotel has a standard room, and a few suites that have refrigerators and microwaves. I notice that we are oversold on these suites.)

Me: “Why are we oversold? We were okay!”

Manager: “I know, but then the family in [Suite] said their remodeling isn’t done, so they need another day.”

Me: “So, you extended them?!”

Manager: “Well, yeah.”

Me: “What are we going to do about the people who have booked the suite?! They’ll be furious if they have no place to go! They’re from a wedding group!”

Manager: “Calm down; I’ll just give them two standard rooms. They should be happy with getting two rooms for the price of one! We’ll just explain to them exactly what happened.”

Me: *muttering* “You clearly don’t know how people are…”

Manager: “Don’t be so negative; they’ll be perfectly alright!”

(When the wedding group comes in, my manager explains to them what has happened and what they are going to get instead. Needless to say, they are absolutely FURIOUS that their suite isn’t available anymore and demand their money back. After some arguing, they get their rooms comped.)

Manager: “…well, I didn’t know they’d be so angry!”

Me: *head-desk*

(I have just started a new job and have worked a couple of shifts. Unfortunately, at the same time, before I can even sign the contract, my sister-in-law, who has terminal cancer, is advised to begin palliative care, and asks her immediate family for help and support. It means I can’t commit to great blocks of time at work while I’m on-call to help her and my brother, so I have to refuse the job offer. On top of this, it has just switched to daylight savings, so the day I know about it, an hour before my next shift begins, I have to let my manager know. It’s 7:30 am, but everybody thinks it’s 6:30 because of daylight savings. I decide to spare my manager the sob story.)

Manager: *sleepily* “Hello?”

Me: “Hi [Manager], it’s [My Name]. Listen, I’ve had a look at the contract and worked a couple of shifts and decided the work just isn’t for me, though I thank you very much for the opportunity. Because of personal circumstances, I’d prefer not to work my shift today, but I realise this is very short notice, so if you really need me, I’m happy t—”

Manager: “You woke me up at 6:30 to tell me you quit?”

Me: “Well, I wanted to make sure you knew as soon as I did, and it’s—”

Manager: “Look, you made a commitment, and you need to come into work today.”

Me: “Yep! Like I said, I know this is short notice, and I’m really sorry because this was such a great—”

Manager: “It’s SIX THIRTY, [My Name]. Why did you think you could wake me up at 6:30?”

Me: “It’s 7:30, [Manager]. Daylight savings just—”

Manager: *exasperated* “Just get into work. Make sure you bring in your details so we can pay you for today.”

(I went into work. Nobody was there until an hour later. We opened late.)

(I take a job in a home for the developmentally disabled as a habilitation tech, someone who helps the residents with daily living. I am filling in a chart at the nurse’s station while my supervisor, with whom I don’t really get along, stands nearby. A resident bounds out of the TV room and goes up to my supervisor, who isn’t doing anything.)

Resident: “Hey, [Supervisor], would you tell me what DNA is? We just saw it on TV and none of us knew what it was.”

Supervisor: “I can’t tell you. You aren’t smart enough to understand.”

(I stare at my chart, appalled at the insulting response, until my supervisor leaves and goes into an office. When I look up, the resident is looking at me, much subdued.)

Resident: “[My Name], could you tell me what DNA is?”

Me: “Well, did you know that your body is made of tiny cells?”

Resident: “Yeah, I understand that.”

Me: “Inside each of those cells, there is something like a tiny book that has instructions about how to make you. It tells your body to make your eyes brown, your hair brown, and how tall you should be. Those instructions in every cell are called DNA.”

Resident: *now smiling* “Thanks for explaining it.”

(As the resident walks away, I look back to where my supervisor had gone. She is standing in the doorway glaring at me. I look back down at my chart without a word.)

Resident: *in a clear, bright voice to the others in the TV room* “[My Name] is much smarter than [Supervisor]! She told me what DNA is!”

(I know I cringed. My supervisor moved into openly hating me after that. I quit not long after. The home closed a few years later.)