(I am a long-term employee in a restaurant at a horse racing venue. The tables are arranged on tiers with huge windows facing the track, so people are there first and foremost to gamble and watch the races. We have a lot of employees coming and going, and as a supervisor, I always try to be friendly and initiate conversation with new staff if there is a quiet moment. This particular night I open with what I thought was a pretty generic question.)

Me: “So, are you interested in horse racing?”

New Coworker: “WHAT?! WHY WOULD YOU ASK ME THAT? I’M JUST HERE TO WORK!” *storms off in a huff*

Me: *speechless*

(Ten minutes later:)

New Coworker: “I’m sorry about earlier. I really do like horses. When I was younger I liked to draw them. They’re such beautiful animals…”

(He proceeds to talk about his affinity with horses while I stand, still quite horrified by his previous outburst, and now quite disturbed by his subsequent dramatic change in demeanour. I keep my distance from him from then on, until I see he has left his change float glass sitting on a table. We each carry a glass with $20 of change in it on our drinks tray so we can take customers’ money at the table, give them change, and then order and pay at the bar. It saves the customers going to the bar to order. I pick up his float, and when he comes back to the bar I take him aside to quietly explain why he can’t leave the cash unattended. He flips out! He starts yelling about how HIS customers would never steal from him, and then starts slamming half-full, dirty glasses into the clearing rack next to me. In the process, he manages to splash what we call “slops” — the gross leftovers from dirty glasses — over a nearby customer. He storms off again, and I apologise to the customer and help her clean up. At this point, I am quite frankly scared of the guy, and one of my bosses happens to walk past. In a workplace with a transient workforce and, quite frankly, not a lot of appreciation for workers, I do the only thing I can think of.)

Me: “[Boss], I’m sorry to leave you hanging, but I’m going to have to leave. [New Coworker] is acting unpredictably, with violent outbursts, and I don’t feel safe.”

Boss: “Why don’t you go on break and let me sort it out?”

(He fired the guy mid-shift, and I was later told that the guy waited by the front staff entrance until the staff left at the end of the night. I’m so thankful that I had parked by the back exit. I also found out later that he was a regular patron at the nearby casino, which might have explained his sensitivity to gambling questions.)

(It’s a quiet moment at the registers. Two of my coworkers and I are talking about coming out, as one of my coworkers and I are both gay. The phone rings and one of my coworkers goes to answer it. She pauses for a second before talking.)

Coworker: “Thanks for calling [Store].”

(She listens to the caller before transferring them to the right department. Once she sets the phone down, she buries her face in her hands.)

Coworker: “I almost answered with, ‘Hi, I’m gay!’”

(We had a good laugh about it.)

(It’s the day before a planned inspection and audit. One of the things we were warned about was that our lockers would be inspected, and if any stock was found inside it would be classed as theft and dealt with accordingly. I have two days off, including the inspection day. There is a staff member who is constantly trying to get me into trouble, but the manager doesn’t believe she purposely does it. As I am getting ready to leave work, my manager asks me to come in the next day to help finalise a few things.)

Me: “Sure thing. I can be here at ten, if that’s okay?”

Manager: *standing in front of lockers* “That’s great. Now let’s get out of here.”

Me: “Oh, I almost forgot my jacket. It’s in my locker; could you pass it to me? It’s unlocked.”

Manager: *opens my locker* “Very good — a nice empty locker.”

(The next morning I get in and go to my locker, and I find that it has been stuffed full of stock.)

Me: “Uh, [Manager], could you look at this, please?”

Manager: “What the…? I know your locker was empty last night.” *starts pulling out the stock* “I saw [Coworker] carrying these half an hour ago; I told her to put them away”

Me: “So, she put them in my locker?”

Manager: “Oh, she probably didn’t do it on purpose. You know we use the top row of lockers for storage.”

Me: “My locker isn’t on the top row, and it has my name written on it.”

Manager: “There’s no way she would do that on purpose. I don’t know why you can’t get on with her.”

(A couple of weeks later, the coworker decides to also take her wrath out on the manager, and after being pulled up on it, she walks out, sending a nasty resignation letter to try and get the manager into trouble. Three days of a lovely, peaceful workplace pass when the manager comes up with this gem.)

Manager: “You know, I think that [Coworker] was the cause of all the trouble around here.”

Me: “You think?”

(At our reception, we work with a team; not everyone is working every day. We have a decent system, like a log, so people know what happened the day before. One of the team members, [Coworker], never uses the log and doesn’t do most of his responsibilities. He once left an accidental spill unattended for hours, instead of calling for cleaners or cleaning it up himself — regular cleaning mopped it up for us in the evening. We mentioned this to him and our manager, but there is little change. Because we are understaffed, management can’t let him go. One morning, I enter the building for opening up. The door is unlocked. The blinds are up. The heater –which should never be left unattended — is still blazing. Important documents are spread out over the table, right in the open. A few minutes after cleaning things up and checking the log — no entry — management comes in.)

Me: “Excuse me, [Manager], who was on duty yesterday?”

Manager: “[Coworker], why?”

(I manage to hold back a “Why am I not surprised?” and tell him how I found things. The manager sighs.)

Manager: “He already mentioned yesterday he wasn’t having his day. When I noticed [chore] hadn’t been done yet, I asked him if he needed help. I hadn’t seen him yet and boy, he looked awful. He got beaten up due to mistaken identity and he said he wasn’t feeling good. But even so, he should’ve done his standard chores.”

Me: “Or asked for help? Or mentioning it beforehand?”

Manager: “I’ll talk about it to him… again.”

(I know we are understaffed, but this is seriously not working. I’ve requested if he can be transferred to another department, with fewer responsibilities. You simply can’t leave an office unlocked, with a fire hazard burning!)

(My cousin is a very masculine, straight-acting police officer. The following exchange takes place in his precinct.)

Officer: “God, my wife is driving me nuts. Women, huh? Doesn’t your wife just make you crazy sometimes?”

Cousin: “I don’t have a wife.”

Officer: “Ah, sorry, I saw the ring. Divorced, huh?”

Cousin: “No.”

Officer: “Oh. Widowed?”

Cousin: “No, I’m definitely still married.”

Officer: *now very confused* “So, you do have a wife?”

Cousin: *starting to snicker at the routine* “No.”

Officer: *as several other cops within earshot also start to crack up* “I don’t understand.”

Sergeant: *yelling in exasperation* “He’s married to a man and therefore has a husband! Jesus Christ, [Officer], how do you expect to make detective with those deductive reasoning skills?”

Officer: “Ohhhhh.”