(The pool I work at hires a new aquatic supervisor, who hasn’t managed a pool before. We are optimistic at first, but it soon becomes apparent that she doesn’t take ethics into consideration when it comes to scheduling. She starts shortening shifts and not giving people a lot of hours. Quite a few people have quit as a result. She also somehow went over with the aquatics budget, even though we have no idea what she spent it on. To help out during our staff shortage, I’m working every closing shift, since I’m in school during the day, but it’s becoming very tiring. My boss knows this and promises to help me out once she hires more people, while still giving me 15 to 20 hours a week. One day, she comes to me with a question.)

Boss: “Hey, [My Name], I’m about to interview some people and I just looked at the starting wage for new hires. Is this right?”

(I look at the sheet of paper and confirm that it is correct.)

Boss: *stunned* “Seriously? But you and the other lifeguards make way more than that.”

Me: “Yes, but we’ve been working here a couple of years, and we get a raise with each successful performance review. That’s why we make more.”

Boss: “Hm…”

(She stands there for an awkward moment, deep in thought.)

Me: “Uh… Do you have a lot of people scheduled for interviews?”

Boss: “Oh, yeah. It’s going to be so much better from here on out.”

Me: “Great.”

(The next few weeks go on without a hitch, and we hear about the new hires coming in. We are about to start lessons one day when my boss comes to talk to me.)

Boss: “[My Name], we have a new guard coming in after lessons to shadow you on closing procedures. Afterwards, he’ll be taking over.”

Me: “Oh, nice! Sure, that will be no problem.”

Boss: “Yep, and I’m going to put out the new schedule soon. You’ll see it’ll be a lot easier for you next month.”

(Suddenly, I have a bad feeling about that last comment, a sinking feeling in my stomach. Maybe it’s how she emphasizes that it will be a lot easier that gets me to question further.)

Me: “Uh, how many hours did I get?”

Boss: *looks at me, puzzled* “You wanted some closings taken off, right?”

Me: “Uh, yeah. But I still get 15 to 20 hours, right?”

Boss: “Oh, you can see on the schedule; it goes out later.”

(That did little to calm my nerves, and I spent the rest of lessons dreading it. Sure enough, the boss dropped off the new schedule while I was busy and promptly left the building so I couldn’t talk to her. I looked at the schedule and discovered that I’d been cut down to two hours a week, and so had every senior lifeguard there. All of the shifts were taken up by new guards, and it was obvious that she did this to save money. Her bright idea was to hire new guards and give them all the hours at a lower wage, then cut our hours to save money. It made a lot of people mad and, guess what? It didn’t work! When you give new people a lot of responsibility with little training and no probation period, you get pools that aren’t opened or closed properly, staff that don’t show up for shifts, and many customer complaints for poor programming. I quickly gave my notice and found another job, not caring about the mess she had to clean up.)

(I work at a butcher’s shop. When there’s a line-up, customers take numbered tickets and wait their turn. Each ticket has a two-digit number in bold print, from zero-zero to ninety-nine. There is also a faint number to the left of the two-digit number, for those extremely rare occasions when we have more than 100 people waiting. Normally we call the two-digit number, and our big number display only has room for two digits. We are running a very popular special, and we have quite a few people in who are not regular customers. There are currently about 20 people waiting.)

Coworker #1: *on PA* “Ninety-eight!”

(A customer responds.)

Coworker #2: *on PA* “Ninety-nine!”

(A customer responds.)

Me: *on PA* “Zero zero!”

(Nothing.)

Me: *on PA* “Zero zero?”

(Still nothing. Sometimes people get tired of waiting and leave, or sometimes someone has taken more than one ticket. I move on to the next number. A few minutes later, I’m in the middle of serving [Customer #03] when a woman shoves her way in front of him and waves a ticket in my face.)

Customer #00: “What number is this?!”

Me: “That’s number zero zero. I called it about five minutes ago, but I didn’t hear you respond. I’m sorry, but I’ll make sure you’re served next.”

Customer #00: “That’s ridiculous! It says 600, not zero zero!”

Me: “Oh, I see. We only call the last two digits.”

Customer #00: “What?! How was I supposed to know that?! This is terrible service! I’ve been waiting twenty minutes! Why would you do that?!”

Me: “Ma’am, the next available person will serve you.”

Customer #00: “NO! I’m leaving! I’m in customer service, and this is terrible! I can’t believe you did this to me! There’s no way I could possibly have known that you weren’t calling the whole number!”

(At this point, the manager shows up. She continues ranting at him for several minutes, while he tries to help her. Eventually she calms down enough to let him serve her. She was never really going to leave without getting her veal; it’s only this cheap once a year. After she leaves, I look at my manager.)

Me: “Did she really think there were 599 people ahead of her?”

Manager: *laughs*

(I am working the cash register in a cafe in Ontario, Canada. A large group of men enter and when I overhear their conversation, I realize they are American. They all sit at a table, and one man walks up to my till to order coffee for the group.)

Customer: “I would like eight large coffees with cream and sugar on the side.”

Me: “Okay, that will be [total].”

(I begin pouring the coffees while he waits, and we make small talk.)

Customer: “I’m American, you know.”

Me: “That’s nice. How long are you staying in [City]?”

Customer: *ignoring my question* “I’m from [State]. Do you know where that is?”

Me: “Yes, sir, I know where [State] is.”

Customer: *suddenly angry* “You can’t possibly know that! I don’t believe you!”

Me: “I can assure you that I do know where it is.”

Customer: “Stupid girl! You need to be more respectful!”

Me: “I’m very sorry if I offended you—”

Customer: *cutting me off* “It’s fine. Just think twice before you go ahead and lie to a customer!”

(With that, he took the trays of coffees from my hands and stormed off to his table. I heard him complaining about “young people” and grumbling, “Damn girl thinks she’s smart.” I’m still not sure how my knowing where his home state was made him so upset.)

(I work for a company which captures people’s photos before they go on the attraction. We are entirely separate from the location in which we rent from. Often, we are dealing with thousands of people on a constant basis. They are placed into a waiting room and we’re tasked with capturing their picture in front of the green screen. Technically, nobody has to actually take the photo, but we try, anyway, because it’s drilled into our heads to capture as many as possible. However, it is entirely up the family, people, or group to actually have their photo done if they wish to. I am not one of those who takes the photos, I’m merely a salesperson who is tasked with showing the photos after the ride and selling it if the individuals want their picture. I am often busy showing numerous people their photos and taking the payments. A lady comes up to our sales desk.)

Customer: “Excuse me. I’d just like to know, what kind of flash do you use for your photos?”

(I don’t know much about the equipment in which we use, as I am just a sale’s supervisor. Further, I’m contractually obligated not to disclose the company’s equipment or procedures.)

Me: *busy, and rather distracted* “It’s just a flash, like every other flash used to take a picture.”

Customer: “But it was so bright and so sudden! Is it necessary?”

Me: “Of course! The picture would come out pitch black without it! I’ve seen it happen when our flash stopped working.”

(By this point, the lady releases how distracted I am, and proceeds to another one of our sales staff.)

Customer: “What kind of flash do you use here?”

Coworker: “I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

Customer: “It’s just that… I’m pregnant! That flash was so strong and so blinding! And I’m pregnant!”

(She’s holding her belly, and we assume she must be in her early term as she’s rather skinny.)

Coworker: “Miss, I can assure you that the flash is perfectly safe. It is not an xray; it’s simply a flash. Many new parents actually have their newborns take photos with flash. The light may not be the greatest things for their eyes, but your baby would not have been exposed to it.”

(The lady leaves us. We’re a bit surprised by her questioning and find it somewhat silly. However, I mention to my coworkers that it’s possible the lady has miscarried, or REALLY wants the baby and is genuinely scared that anything could mess things up. But this isn’t the end of things with this woman. After she deals with us, she goes upstairs to where we do stunt shot pictures. She waits in a long line-up to speak with the coworker there, who actually happens to be the manager.)

Customer: “Excuse me. I had a photo taken downstairs. I’m pregnant and that flash was really rough.”

Manager: “Oh, I’m very sorry about that. But the flash will not hurt your baby.”

Customer: *getting upset* “How do you know?”

Manager: “Miss, if you head outside, you’re exposing yourself to radiation from the sun. The flash has none. It is just light produced by electricity. Just like the lights from above us. I promise you, the baby is safe.”

Customer: “Well… you know, you should really tell everyone that the photo is not for security purposes! We thought it was! We wouldn’t have done it!”

Manager: “Miss, we have no time to explain to customers that it is not for security purposes. If you ask the staff taking your photo, they will tell you that it is just a souvenir shot. We are not allowed to mislead.”

Customer: “WELL, YOU SHOULD REALLY LET THEM KNOW! I’M PREGNANT. I WOULD NOT HAVE DONE IT!”

Manager: “I am very sorry that you feel that way. Again, nobody ever told you that it would be for security purposes; we go through thousands of guests and have to keep the line moving. And I promise you, the baby is unharmed.”

Customer: “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! I would like to speak with the manager!”

Manager: “I am the manager. I do not know what you would like me to do for you.”

Customer: “Is there a phone number? Is there no one who can be reached so that we change the rules?”

Manager: “There is nothing to be done, as no harm as been done. Miss, with all due respect, I have to get back to my work. I can do nothing more for you but reassure you.”

(The lady stood there huffing angrily, while unfortunately the manager had no choice but to continue working and ignoring her. She eventually left, and there was no follow-up. But the entire situation was a new one for us, especially with how difficult it was for us to explain that the flash could not harm a baby or cause a miscarriage.)

(I am a cashier at work and am known for being a little silly, especially when a specific coworker is working. This day she is. We are going on, having fun. She’s pretending to order me around like I’m her slave. Exactly what was said before this, I’m not sure, but somehow I hit my elbow on the till.)

Customer #1: “That sounded like it hurt.”

Me: “It did, [Coworker]. I’m hurt! I have to go home.”

Coworker: “Yeah, right. You are not going anywhere; you can stay here until you die.”

Me: “But I am dying. The pain is unbearable. Everything is going black. Tell my family I love them.”

Customer #2: “Before you die, can I get a package of cigarettes? Then we can die together.”

(My coworker and [Customer #1] burst out laughing.)

Me: “Sure.”

(I get her smokes and ring her through. When her receipt starts printing:)

Me: “[Coworker], give her her receipt. I see the light.”

(I sit on my till and lay my head down, pretending to die.)

Customer #2: “Thank you, sweet girl. I will join you soon.”

(She opens up her pack and puts a cigarette in her mouth before she walks out the door.)

Customer #1: “So nice to see people having fun at work. Now, you—” *indicating coworker* “—be nice and let this girl rest in peace.”