I’m working away, fixing one of the rebuilds. I get it done and send it down the line. What should happen is the next one automatically rolling into the station, but nothing comes.

I look up the line and it looks like the line is full. So, what’s the hold-up?! I go to the previous station to ask the guy what’s going on.

Me: “Hey, what’s with the delay?”

Worker: “Yeah, I’m doing it.”

He isn’t; he is on his phone, just kind of spaced out.

Me: “Well, you should be two in front of me. Why are you so behind? Did something happen? I’ve got no work.”

Worker: “I said I’m doing it!”

Fine, whatever. He should know what he’s doing; he’s been here long enough. I grabbed a drink and went back to my station.

I waited a while — still no work. I headed back to the previous station again. When I got there, the guy was just standing there, listening to music. It looked like he hadn’t done a thing.

I let my manager know my numbers were going to be down and why. I didn’t see it happen, but the guy got dragged into the office, apparently stinking of weed, and he had no idea why everyone was annoyed at him.

He refused a drug test, refused any help, and refused to give up his car keys.

What was going to be a written warning and suspension turned into getting the police called to stop him from driving away and ultimately led to him being fired on the spot.

One of the managers has to take some time off for urgent “family matters”. The details are quite sad and you would think people would get on and do what they could to take the load off him or at least not give the guy more stress.

But not [Employee]. [Employee] doesn’t care about anything past his nose. I’ve had the joy of dealing with him while his actual manager spends most of his time at home.

Me: “[Employee], your numbers are terrible this month. What’s going on?”

He just shrugs.

Me: “No, seriously. You’ve done less than anyone. What’s the issue?”

Employee: “The machine keeps playing up.”

Me: “When did you highlight it?”

He just looks at me funny.

Me: “When did you tell someone that it was playing up”

Employee: “Not my job, is it?”

Me: “Your job, [Employee], is to follow the work instructions. On every work instruction is the contact details of maintenance, who it states must be contacted in case of issues with machinery.”

Employee: “No, it doesn’t, and even if it does, how am I supposed to contact them when I’m stood here?”

I get the work instruction, find the one he signed, and point out the bold print.

Me: “‘Contact maintenance on [number] or tell [Supervisor].’”

Employee: “Well, I didn’t see that.”

Me: “Nope, you saw it, and I know you’ve raised issues before. I’m passing you over for a write-up.”

Employee: “That’s bulls***. [Manager] would never write me up.”

Me: “Guess what? He’s not here. I am.”

Employee: “Well, I’ll call him.”

Me: “You dare, and I will have you written up for that, as well. He is not to be disturbed and you know d*** well why.”

He stormed off. I passed the details to Human Resources. As I was talking to them, they got a call from [Manager]. Apparently, [Employee] called him several times. When he answered and told him to stop calling, [Employee] hit him with a barrage of profanity.

The write-up I put forward wasn’t needed; they fired [Employee] without it. He was gone before the end of the day.

My local supermarket is inside a larger shopping centre. As I enter the centre, a bunch of teens are messing around on the stairs — jumping off, kicking things down it, and getting in people’s way.

I push my way through when they try to stop me but I can see others are intimidated by them, and my words do nothing.

I see the supermarket’s customer service desk and go over.

Me: “Hey, could you get security over to the stairs? A bunch of kids are being a nuisance.”

Worker: “Well, those aren’t owned by [Supermarket]; they are managed by [Shopping Centre].”

Me: “Yeah, but I’m guessing you have the ability to contact them?”

Worker: *Suddenly full of attitude* “Well, yeah, I guess. But it’s not my job.”

Me: “Your customers are being harassed, and you don’t feel bothered enough to make a phone call?! Is there someone else I can talk to?”

Worker: “Fine, whatever, I’ll do it.”

I stand and wait. She doesn’t move. Realising that I’m not going anywhere, she picks up the phone next to her, and without saying anything, she shortly puts down the phone.

Worker: “They’re coming.”

Me: “Great, I will wait.”

She huffs and picks up the phone again, pushes a button, and talks to someone. I can hear her describe what’s going on.

Worker: “Yeah, some kids or something.” *Pauses* “The stairs.” *Pauses* “Yeah, whenever. Don’t run down here.” *Pauses* “Yeah, someone is complaining.” 

She hangs up and turns to me.

Worker: *To me* “Happy now?”

Me: “Ecstatic, thank you.”

I did my shopping and exited by the stairs. I saw the same bunch of kids being seen to by a first-aider. Looks like one of their jumps landed badly. If only there was some way of preventing it.

I answer the phones. We mostly get sale inquiries. I get a call early one morning:

Me: “Good morning, thank you for calling—”

Caller: *Almost hysterical* “How dare you?! Is your company—” *Garbled* “This is the twenty-first century. How dare you! This is offensive!”

Me: “Miss, please. Let me check that you are calling the right number.”

Caller: *Angry* “Miss? I am not ‘Miss.’ You don’t call me that!”

Me: “Okay, apologies, I misspoke, but I just wanted to check that you had the right number first.”

Caller: “Of course, I have the right number! What, because I’m a woman I must be stupid? Is that what your company thinks?”

Me: “No, not at all, but we often get wrong numbers. This is [Small Company], part of [Group].”

Caller: “Yes, so I did call the right number, huh?!”

Me: “Okay. Please, can you help me understand the nature of the issue?”

Caller: *Calmer* “Your company, your backwards company, has its head stuck up its own a*** and back in the seventeenth century!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but in what regards?”

Caller: *Angry again* “Your website, the box! How dare you assume my gender?! I’m doing the contact page, and the drop-down shows miss!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but are you on the [Company] website?”

Caller: “Yes, of course, I am!”

Me: “[Website] dot com?”

Caller: “Uh…” *Click*

Me: “Boss! I’m going outside, might not be back!”

I did come back, of course, and we blocked and reported her number, which was part of some business.

It’s the last day of the big office move. We have 150 people, equipment, and stock all being transferred to new premises. A few of us are getting the last of the odds and ends. I’m stood in the doorway propping it open and talking to a coworker, checking we have got everything.

Woman: “Ugh, are you two going to do anything?!”

She shoves past us.

Me: “What’s her problem?”

Coworker: “Oh, yeah. She got caught not helping and was told off by [Big Boss].”

Me: “Well, she needs to wind her neck in. I’ve been here since five.”

It’s not long before she comes back, muttering how this is all a “waste of time”. She stomps right up to us.

Woman: “What exactly are you two doing? Apart from being a doorstop!”

Coworker: *Sighs* “We are doing a final sweep of the rooms to check everything is off and we have taken everything.”

Woman: “Pff, what’s the point in that?”

Me: “What’s the point in checking we have taken everything?” *Pauses* “To make sure we’ve not forgotten anything.”

Woman: “Did I ask you?! And I don’t need you to hold the door for me. I swear I’ve seen more use out of a—”

I don’t hear the rest of the sentence as I step away and let the door close in her face. This door is an old wooden door, normally not used as it sticks shut whenever it gets wet, like today. [Woman] bangs and shouts and curses, and then she bangs some more, all while we load the last of the stuff in the van.

Eventually, I get a call from my boss.

Boss: “What the h*** is going on down there? I’ve had [Woman] scream down the phone at me, saying you locked her in.”

Me: “I was just doing what I was told; she said she didn’t want me to hold the door for her.”

Boss: “Just let her out.”

Me: “There’s more than one door to the building; none of them are locked.”

Boss: “Just let her out, please.”

I went back to the building and opened the double doors not fifteen meters from her, and she pushed past me again with a variety of insults. I know she complained about me, but she did so while also swearing at her boss, so it went nowhere.