(My partner works in a specialised area of IT as an engineer. His job involves going from site to site with many different clients. My partner does not like wearing suits because he is an engineer; his boss lets him get away with wearing a plain shirt — not tucked in — and dark jeans. One day, he is called to a fancy office in central London. The receptionist asks him to sit down and wait for his contact at the company to show him to the server room. A few minutes later a woman in a suit marches over to him.)

Woman: “You’re late!”

Partner: “Excuse me?”

Woman: “You’re late for your interview with Mr. [Hiring Person]! We don’t hire people that can’t even be on time!”

Partner: “Okay.”

(My partner just sits back down in reception and patiently continues waiting for his contact at the company.)

Woman: “YOU CAN’T STAY HERE!”

Partner: “Did you ask for my name?”

Woman: “Excuse me?!”

Partner: “My name is [Partner] and I work for [IT Company]. I am waiting for Mr. [Client]. I am not here for an interview, but even if I was, it is never acceptable to shout at another person that way. Especially in a professional environment.”

(The receptionist called my partner through and he managed to get to work on fixing the problem. My partner mentioned the shouting woman to his contact, who happened to be the CEO. The woman was still on probation, which means that you can be let go with not much warning. When he went back the next month, she was gone.)

(I am about to be made redundant and so have been searching desperately for a new job. I have posted my CV on several job sites and set up various alerts for jobs in the West Midlands. I’ve had various agencies call me offering me various jobs that either aren’t in the field I currently work in, pay way too little for me to accept, or in one memorable instance, require a little too much travel.)

Agent: “Hi there. I am calling on behalf of [Agency]. I think you would be a perfect match for a six-month contract we have.”

Me: “Great! What’s the job?”

Agent: *describes a pretty good job offer with good pay* “…and it’s based in Watford.”

Me: “I’m sorry; did you say Watford?”

Agent: “Yes, is that a problem?”

Me: “Just a bit. You know I live in Birmingham?”

Agent: “Yes… Is it a bit too far for you?”

Me: “It’s over 80 miles away!”

Agent: “Oh! Well, you could always stay in a hotel during the week!”

(I have done this before in a previous job for 18- months and hated it, so I am not willing to even entertain it.)

Me: “What? No way. I doubt the company would pay that expense.”

Agent: “Would you be willing to relocate maybe?”

Me: “No! Why would I leave a city I have grown up in, and move away from immediate family for a contract job? And nothing you have said hints at a relocation payment.”

Agent: “Uh, well, no, you’d have to pay for it yourself. Maybe you could stay with family close by?”

Me: “Okay, no. That is ridiculous. I am not taking a job that means I would never be home.”

Agent: “Well, it would only be for six months. Are you sure it’s a deal-breaker?”

Me: “Yes, I am, and even if distance wasn’t a problem, I have a pet…”

Agent: “Oh! Oh, yeah, I totally get that. Pets are a big responsibility! Thank you for your time anyway!”

(So, the fact that I didn’t want to have an eighty-mile commute, relocate, live out of a hotel, or couch surf for six months was not a valid excuse, but the second I mentioned having a pet it was understandable? Not to mention that this guy hadn’t even thought to check a map before calling me! I am still baffled to this day.)

(I’m back at work after a day off. I’ve opened the store and my colleague comes in an hour later.)

Coworker: “[Customer] called for you yesterday.”

Me: “Oh, okay. I spoke to her on the phone earlier this morning.”

Coworker: “Yeah, she was quite agitated and insisted that she had to talk to you immediately as it was urgent. When I told her you weren’t at work, she asked for your personal number so that she could call you at home.”

Me: “Wait, what?”

Coworker: “I refused to give it to her, saying that I couldn’t give out personal information. Eventually, I managed to get her to tell me that she wanted to pay off the balance on her order. I said that I could process the payment for her, but she refused my help and asked for you to call her today.”

Me: “She didn’t mention any of that to me! I even emailed her to say that I wouldn’t be in yesterday, but that I’d be back today. I don’t know why she didn’t just speak to you. It’s not like I could have helped her on my day off. I don’t have access to the order system at home and I don’t have a PDQ machine, either! Does she think I just carry a portable PDQ machine with me at all times?”

Coworker: “I guess so!”

(Our shop is a small craft shop. We sell fabrics and other craft items but not upholstery and curtain items. I work there six days a week so I don’t tend to frequent other craft shops on the seventh. A customer calls.)

Me: “Good afternoon. How can I help?”

Customer: “Do you sell curtain brackets?”

Me: “No, I’m afraid not; we don’t sell curtain accessories.”

Customer: “So, you don’t have brackets?”

Me: “No, I’m afraid not.”

Customer: “Where do you normally send people who need curtain things?”

Me: “I’m afraid we’re not a catalogue of shops; we don’t really—”

Customer: “You must have a list of contacts for people you can’t help.”

Me: “Well, there’s a shop in [Nearby Town] who may do them, but you may want to Google curtain shops in the local area to be sure.”

Customer: “Oh.” *hangs up*

(Seriously, shops are not local directories for you, and small business owners don’t have time to be making lists of other craft shops to send you to. Google is a thing; do your own research.)

(My friends and I have been to a nightclub in the city, and instead of getting the train, I offer to drive everyone. I am stone-cold sober as I don’t like to drink alcohol; I don’t like the taste. We exit the club and see a food truck on the curb. All of my friends are a bit too drunk to want food, but I go over and join the queue. There are a few people in front of me, and finally the queue thins and it’s just me and a man that is so drunk that he can’t stand. At one point, he hunches over and gags but luckily isn’t sick.)

Server: “Anyone not had their order taken yet?”

(The drunk man in front of me ignores him and continues to gag.)

Server: “Anyone?”

(This goes on for two minutes and in the end, I roll my eyes and step forward to order. The second I open my mouth…)

Server: “Get back in line! That man was in front of you.”

(I shrugged and decided to walk away, because I had already been in the queue for ten minutes and it didn’t look like I was going to get any food any time soon. The second I stepped out of line, the man vomited over the curb and up the side of the truck.)