(I start work as a temporary assistant for a non-profit; my main job is to help them prepare for a fundraiser that will be happening in the next week. Within my first day, it is clear that the main boss lady is a huge b****, and she has very clearly been bullying another of the employees. She more or less leaves me alone, other than a snide or frustrating comment here or there, but I’m pretty thick-skinned and I know it’s a temporary position, anyway, so I let most of them go. However, I’m starting to feel uncomfortable because a lot of employees, who I have never met, due to this being a temp job, keep coming to me to complain about the boss. None of this is a good sign, but I soldier on. The day of the fundraiser arrives. I ask them the whole day before if they want me to come help set up, but the boss lady keeps brushing me off. They’re literally walking to their cars when I ask for the final time if they want me to come. Then, this happens:)

Boss: “Oh, yeah, it would be good if you could come and help set up.”

Me: “Okay, cool! Can I have the address for the hotel to put in my GPS?”

Boss: “No, just get in my car.”

Me: “Um… I prefer to drive myself. That way I don’t have to bother you to drive me back to my car when I’ve exceeded my hours; I can just go. Can I have the address, please?”

Boss: *snottily* “Well, are you actually planning to show up?”

Me: “Yes, but I can’t if you won’t give me the address.”

Boss: “Just get in my car! It will be easier that way!”

Me: “No, I’m not getting in your car if you won’t even tell me where we’re going.”

Boss: *snottily, again* “You know, if you want to get paid, you actually have to work.”

Me: “I literally just need the address. I don’t know where the place is, and I prefer to drive myself.”

Boss: “I told you to get in my car!”

Me: “No.”

Boss: “Ugh, fine, you can stay here and enter the donations into [Program], then.”

(I have never heard of this program in my life, and it isn’t in the job description, either.) 

Me: “What’s [Program]?”

Boss: “Are you f****** kidding me? You don’t know [Program]? Fine! Go home, then! Just go home!”

(I’m a little upset at this point, but I turn around and start heading to my car to go home.)

Boss: “Where are you going?!”

(Finally, the boss’s daughter got out of her car and handed me a flyer with the address on it. That’s literally ALL I NEEDED. They drove off. I got in my car and considered actually going home since I really didn’t need to be treated like that, but then figured I needed the money so whatever, I’d help them set up and then go home. I helped them set up, and lo and behold, they were way too busy with the function when it was time for me to go to even say goodbye, so I doubt they would’ve bothered to drive me back to my car if I hadn’t driven myself. I would’ve just been trapped there. The next day, the lady who had been clearly bullied by the boss quit in a rage and stormed out. I called the temp agency and when I explained what happened they pulled me off the job immediately and told me they’d no longer send people there. Good riddance.)

Where I work, we have several printers/scanners scattered throughout the building. Each one mainly serves the employees whose desks are closest. On the machines we had until a few weeks ago, each scanner had shortcuts for the email addresses of the employees who used it most frequently. We just recently got all the scanners replaced, and the new ones come with a general address book of the entire company and no scanner-specific shortcuts. A number of employees, myself included, found that irritating.

Then, one day, I discovered a way to use the “shortcuts” feature to make a short list of frequently-used email addresses on my nearest scanner. Certain that my other coworkers would appreciate this, I sent out a company-wide email letting people know that it was possible and I’d be happy to show them how. Multiple coworkers responded favorably. Then, one of the managers called me up and told me to let the IT guy handle adding any shortcuts, “so that he can put them on the server and they’ll be available on all printers.”

After about five minutes, I finally got her to understand that this would defeat the purpose of my idea, but she still failed to see what was so annoying about scrolling through several dozen names every time you scan. And her name isn’t at the top of the alphabet, she has to scroll, too.

For reasons I don’t want to get into, my relationship with my parents soured when I was in college. Among other things, they started micromanaging my life. 

For example, when I was starting a hunt for a job, my dad decided I needed a cover letter. He talked to me as I was about to go to bed — at almost midnight — telling me I needed to have a cover letter written by 9:00 the next morning. So, I got up at 8:00 — earlier than usual, and I am definitely not a morning person — and spent the next hour writing the cover letter. 

Oddly, Dad didn’t come to check on me at 9:00. I soon found out why: he’d decided to write a cover letter for me. But it was good that I’d done my assignment because now he was going to compare the two cover letters and change his to match my wording any time the two cover letters were similar. Then, he’d send me his finished draft and I would send it to potential employers!

I revised my cover letter by myself and used it without telling him. No idea what difference it made to the job hunt, but I did find a job. I have since moved out of my parents’ house and my mental health is much improved.

(I work as a barista. One day, a woman I’ve never seen before enters the café.)

Me: “Hi. What can I get for you?”

Customer: “I’d like to try some of your coffee.”

Me: “Sure, will that be a drip coffee, or–“

Customer: “I want coffee, but I don’t want to buy it. I just want a sample.”

Me: “If you’d just like a taste, I can give you a sample of our drip coffee in our two-ounce cup.”

(I hold up the cup so the customer can see.)

Customer: “No, I want a sample but in that size cup!” *points to our regular-size paper cups*

Me: “I’m sorry, but we only do free samples in the two-ounce cups. Did you still want the sample?”

(The customer huffs and puffs but finally agrees, and I pour the sample for her. She takes the cup and then makes her way to the self-serve area where the cream and sugar are kept. I watch with curiosity — which soon turns into dumbfoundedness — as this woman takes a sip of her tiny sample of coffee to make room, and then pours half-and-half into it, then another sip, and then pouring some more half-and-half, etc. After drinking her coffee in this fashion for at least twenty repetitions of sipping and diluting her sample, she marches back to the register, face flushed with anger.)

Customer: *slamming the cup down on the counter* “I demand you remake me a free cup of coffee! This one was disgusting!”

Me: “That can happen when you pour twenty creamers into a two-ounce cup of coffee.”

Customer: *storms out, shouting profanities*

(I’m visiting my grandparents at the end of finals week in the spring of 2006. It’s a hot late-spring day and my grandparents have windows open and multiple fans going. My grandmother is fanning herself and remarking on how hot it’s getting as the season progresses. My dad has told me stories about growing up, so I know a few things about his childhood home from the 60s. They moved to their current house a few years ago after it was built.)

Me: “You guys had this house built; why didn’t you have them put in an air conditioning system?”

Grandmother: “We had one of those in the house in Arizona and I didn’t like it because it smelled funny.”

Me: “Grandma… you moved out of Arizona… forty-two years ago. Don’t you think that ACs might have changed a bit?”

Grandmother: “I don’t know, I just didn’t want one.” *as she walks down the hall*

(I remember something else my dad told me about his house and call out to her while grinning.)

Me: “You didn’t have an air conditioner! You had an old swamp cooler. Of course, it smelled funny; it was full of old stagnant water!”