The “Pet” Has A Project

, , , , , , | | Right | May 29, 2019

A new hire, who was a total brown-noser, quickly got promoted to manager and developed a god-complex with the younger staff. I am 6’2″ and 205 pounds and am a former amateur kick-boxer and wrestler; I also have epilepsy and Asperger’s.

The manager used to go out of her way to make things difficult for me on several occasions, even going so far as to have her friends come in and make up fake complaints about me or verbally abuse me.

One such friend came in and called me over from a till — which I’m not supposed to leave — and she told me loudly to go over to their friend who then proceeded to verbally abuse me.

I just stood there and let the “big man” rant and rave — the guy can’t have been more than about 5’8″ and 130 pounds. As he finished, I apologised for whatever he’d made up and attempted to go back to my till, at which point he tripped me up. I fell towards a shelf but managed to grab it so I didn’t fall. The guy then proceeded to push me again, at which point I hit him with a right hook and knocked him out as he fell into a floor display.

I proceeded to call the paramedics and police as well as the manager whose “pet” had instigated the situation.

The guy was tended to by the paramedics whilst I was called into the office with the police and the supervisor present who was smiling smugly at me as the manager explained that I was to be fired and arrested. I told her to check the CCTV. The police agreed to this, and the footage showed the restraint I’d had before defending myself. The manager then said I’d still be written up and put on disciplinary action.

Having had enough I said, “You know of my disabilities and can see that I was assaulted first. You’re responsible for providing me with a safe working environment. In the space of an hour, I’ve been assaulted and discriminated against because of my disabilities. The police could be making some arrests now and it wouldn’t be me they’d be arresting. If you so much as write me up, I’ll contact both my union and corporate and let them know what happened here, and they’d fire you just to keep me happy.”

The police walked out, and I followed them a few minutes after because it was the end of my shift. The following day, I noticed that not only had the CCTV tape from the day before conveniently gone “missing,” but there was a write-up on the notice board. I took the sheet down, wrote “I quit” on the back, flipped off the manager and supervisor, and walked across the road to a rival convenience store where I got a new job.

You Can’t Be Citrus?

, , , , | | Working | May 28, 2019

(During a down-time at the lab where I volunteer as a research assistant, I glance at my coworker’s notes and computer screen.)

Me: “Is orange your favourite colour?”

Coworker #1: *looks up at me in confusion*

Me: “Well, you’re using orange highlighter on both your notes and on your computer.”

Coworker #1: “Oh, I think that’s the only colour that’s available for the highlighter on the program.”

Coworker #2: *pipes up* “Orange is my favourite colour. You know why? Nothing rhymes with it.”

Me: “Door-hinge.”

Coworker #2: “What?”

Me: “Door-hinge.”

Coworker #3: “Door-hinge rhymes with orange.”

Coworker #2: “Oh… Now I hate orange. Thanks a lot for ruining orange for me!”

Me: *shrugs* “Sorry. You could like silver. Or purple.”

Coworker #2: “I hate silver. Silver isn’t a colour. It’s just a very shiny grey.”

Me: *shrugs* “Okay. You could still like purple.”

Coworker #2: “Hmm… Purple is a nice colour.”

Me: “Purple is a very nice colour.”

Coworker #2: “Yeah… I never liked orange.”

TV And Dinners And Bisque, Oh My!

, , , , , | | Working | May 26, 2019

(I’m working in a call center that pays above minimum wage, but not by much. I’m an extremely frugal person, which serves me well in this job. My coworkers sometimes have a harder time with it. The following describes several conversations with one such coworker.)

Coworker #1: “Ooh, that smells good! What are you eating?”

Me: “Tomato-basil bisque with cornbread muffins.”

Coworker #1: “Wait, from [Expensive Restaurant]? How the h*** can you afford that?!”

Me: “No, I made it, from some tomatoes I canned up last summer. Only about fifty cents worth of ingredients, and it made about three quarts worth!”

Coworker #1: “D***, girl, nobody has time for crap like that!” *eats her $10 takeout meal*


Coworker #1: “Hey, did you see [TV Show] last night?”

Me: “No, I don’t watch much TV, sorry.”

Coworker #1: “WHAT?! What the h*** do you do with your time?! I’d be bored out of my mind.”

(Another day, she overhears me talking with another coworker about a good-quality grain-grinder I bought.)

Coworker #1: “How the h*** can you even afford that?!”

Me: “I’ve been saving up for it for two years now. I have a ton of wild grains growing in my backyard. If I can—“

Coworker #1: “Just buy your food like everyone else does!”

(Another day, I catch part of a conversation happening near my desk:)

Coworker #1: *in tears* “How can they evict me? It’s not my fault I didn’t have money for the rent! Our fridge broke down. Do you know how much it costs to eat restaurant food three times a day? What am I supposed to tell my little boy?”

Coworker #2: “Wait, didn’t your fridge break down months ago?”

Coworker #1: “Yeah, I couldn’t afford a new one! If I had a fridge, I’d have a place to keep TV dinners, and then we wouldn’t have to eat out every meal.”

Making You Tongue-Tied

, , , , , , , | | Hopeless | May 17, 2019

I’ve not long turned 19 and I’m working in a fast food restaurant full time while also about to start my second year of college. For the last month, I’ve been complaining of a sore tongue, thinking I have an ulcer, but it turns out to be a cancerous tumour. I’m eventually diagnosed with stage-four oral cancer and have to give up my place in college and work, meaning that while I’m stuck in a hospital bed I have no money to pay bills back at home. When I get home before my second leg of treatment starts, I get a visit from my store manager and the owner.

They hand me one of those massive cheques that are given during presentations, and written on it is my name and a larger sum of money than I have ever seen at any one time.

My coworkers and customers had been raising money for me all the time I was in the hospital — nine and a half weeks — during my operation and recovery.

It made all the bad shifts and horrible customers that had reduced me to tears so worth it.

We Know “Lotioning” Isn’t A Word But It Should Be

, , , , | | Working | May 15, 2019

(My department at work consists of mostly females, and that means I and the few guys working there are definitely the minority. I have been complaining to my wife over email that my skin is incredibly dry and I am getting itchy. She says when I get home she will get me some lotion to help. As I sit typing, I look down at my arm and realize I can’t wait that long; I have “crocodile skin.” One of the women I work with jokingly told me one time if I ever needed lotion to let her know because she has some at her desk. So, I decide to do just that. I approach her desk with my index fingers together like you see little kids do when they want something.)

Female Coworker #1: “Uh-oh, what did I do?”

Me: *laughs* “Absolutely nothing. Um… One time you and a few of the others jokingly said if I ever needed some lotion I could borrow some… May I?”

Female Coworker #1: “YES! I have… uh… this one which is [scent], this one which is [type], this one…”

Me: “I don’t care what it smells like; I have crocodile skin and it’s really bothering me!”

(She hands me one and I crack it open, putting some on my skin.)

Me: “Oh! I like this!”

Male Coworker #1: *popping up like a prairie dog from his desk* “Huh?! What? Lotion?”

Me: “Yeah, my skin was so dry!” *rubbing both hands up my arm coating myself in the “smell good” lotion*

Male Coworker #1: “Oh! Um… Can I have some?”

Female Coworker #2: “I have some! Want to try it?” *grabs a bottle and starts walking over*

Male Coworker #1: “That’s not the cinnamon stuff that makes everyone here sneeze, is it?”

Female Coworker #2: “No, it’s…” *smelling it* “Okay, it might be…”

Me: “Well, it’s peppermint from what I can tell.”

Male Coworker #1: “Okay… fine… I’ll take it!”

Male Coworker #2: “What are you guys doing?”

Me: “Lotioning.”

Male Coworker #1: “Yeah, figured since he’s going to moisten his skin, I would.”

Male Coworker #2: “Uh… What kind of lotion is it? I mean, you guys are smelling like lotion.”

([Male Coworker #2] is then given lotion by a third female coworker and starts applying it. All of this is going on directly outside the department director’s door. He pops out and sees the three of us guys and the three girls rubbing our skin with lotion and stares at us for a second.)

Department Director: “Dry skin?”

Me: “Yeah, it was bad.”

Department Director: “Carry on. Smells good in here!”

(The department director walked away and we all started laughing. It became known as the “Moistening” by everyone in our department, and they learned at least three guys in the office are secure enough to wear scented lotions for the sake of comfort.)

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