When I started working for a restaurant, they made it crystal clear (even at the job interview) that unexplained tardiness without a phone call would not be tolerated. The first occurrence was a write-up; the second was an automatic termination. Period.

It was only three weeks before I bagged my first write-up after some cop stopped me, thinking I matched the description of a mugging suspect. They took their sweet time at the dispatch office to confirm my identity and eventually let me go… aaand I then saw that my phone was dead.

The following day, I discovered that my girlfriend had been cheating on me. I was so upset that I spent the entire night wandering the town because I couldn’t sleep at all. As dawn began to roll in and I had an early morning opening shift, I was concerned that it would take too long to walk all the way home, grab my uniform, and then walk to work since the busses didn’t start running until 9:00 am on Sundays. I figured it was better to just walk directly to the restaurant since I was about fifteen minutes away, hang out there until they opened, and just ask the shift manager for a fresh uniform to change into.

I walked over, sat next to the door, closed my eyes, and soon dozed off until the shift manager walked up and gave me a playful kick with a cheerful, “Rise and shine!”

The following day, the general manager called me into the office with a somewhat unamused look on his face.

Manager: “I know that you were warned that if you were late again, you would be fired—”

Me: *Going into panic mode* “I WAS ON TIME! I know I was! I was actually here before everyone else was!”

Manager: “Oh, yes, we all saw that!”

He then pointed to his computer screen, which showed an email containing a screenshot of surveillance footage… of yours truly, knocked out in front of the restaurant door.

Manager: “Putting aside the giggles you’ve provided everyone in the corporate office and throughout the restaurant chain, can we kindly ask for you not to camp out on the premises to avoid being late? Especially two hours before your shift begins? This is just a restaurant, not the freaking Marines! I’ve spoken to [Shift Manager #1] and [Shift Manager #2], and they said they would be more than happy to come and scoop you up for the early bird shifts since you don’t have a car.”

Me: “Yeah! Thanks! I appreciate that!”

He kept an annoyed look and tone of voice.

Manager: “You’re quite welcome. And thank you for at least taking that warning so seriously. As an added favor, I tossed your last tardy write-up.”

The other managers found that photo amusing, as well, and posted it on our bulletin board with the caption, “Now THIS is dedication!”

Surprisingly, the corporate office did away with the “two-strike” policy shortly after that incident and simply left it up to individual management to decide what appropriate disciplinary actions to take for tardiness.

It always cracked me up how a purely unrelated series of events inadvertently painted me in a completely unintended favorable way and ultimately ended up changing an ultra-strict policy!

My brother-in-law got engaged to a girl after dating her for six years. The entire relationship, she had been not-so-subtly hinting at getting married and renovating the house he owned. She was there five nights a week and had a lot of say in who was allowed over and who wasn’t, but she adamantly denied living there because it wasn’t Christ-like to cohabitate before marriage.

When they finally got engaged, [Girl] immediately went out and booked a high-end venue, purchased an expensive dress, and started renovating [Brother-In-Law]’s house. She purchased all new furniture and dishes, had the deck completely rebuilt, and repainted the walls so they were all white instead of the pale blue and green they had been. All of this was either done with my brother-in-law’s savings account or his credit cards. She didn’t pay a penny because she didn’t have a job; she spent her days going to a community college and volunteering at a local drug and alcohol rehabilitation center.

About two months before the wedding, [Girl] started staying late at the center. Then, she would go in early. Then, she wouldn’t come back for days at a time. Her phone was always turned off, or she claimed it had died.

Then, a month before the wedding, after being unavailable for four days in a row, [Girl] showed up while my husband and I were over. She pulled [Brother-In-Law] aside and said that God told her they shouldn’t be together.

Brother-In-Law: “Get out of my house. Immediately.”

She gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes.

Girl: “Please don’t! Sleep on the couch, and I’ll take the bedroom until I find a place! Please!”

Brother-In-Law: “I’d like to remind you that you’ve always said you don’t live here. You have no choice but to leave or I’ll call the police and press charges for trespassing.”

[Girl] left that night and moved in with someone she met at the rehab. Two weeks later — two weeks before she was supposed to marry [Brother-In-Law] — she was engaged to this new guy and planning on getting married the same day she was going to marry [Brother-In-Law].

[Brother-In-Law] called the venue she had booked and asked if he could get any of his money back at all. The person who answered seemed very confused.

Coordinator: “The wedding is still on, correct? I just saw [Girl] two days ago, and everything was great.”

Once the coordinator was up to speed with everything, he refunded [Brother-In-Law] most of his deposit and canceled the reservation; after all, it was still in his name. [Brother-In-Law] then called the company that was holding her wedding dress and repeated the same thing. He called the caterer, the DJ, and everyone who had been hired for their wedding. They all said the same thing; they had just spoken with [Girl] and she had never hinted that anything was different. All total, [Brother-In-Law] got back about $75,000.

The day of the wedding came and [Brother-In-Law]’s phone would not stop. [Girl] called, she texted, and she tried reaching him through every single social media he had. Then, she tried to publicly shame him, tagging him in post after post. Her life was ruined because of him! How dare he cancel her dream wedding with the love of her life?! What a monster!

[Girl] married her new fiancé at the courthouse the following week. She seemed much less enthused about this little wedding but went through with it. None of us were invited, of course, but we have mutual friends who kept us updated.

They were together for less than six months before they quietly divorced and [Girl] moved in with someone else. [Brother-In-Law] now has a beautifully renovated house on the market, worth twice as much as he bought it for.

I was a police officer. About fifteen years ago, a girl came in with a complaint that her boyfriend had been sending her a stream of harassing messages after she broke up with him. They weren’t threatening in nature; they oscillated between a few different angles.

Message: “Baby, I love you! Give me another chance!”

Message: “You’re nothing but a cheap w***e and left me to be with someone else!”

Message: “I just swallowed a hundred sleeping pills. I hope you’re proud of yourself!”

Message: “Let’s be adults and talk this out.”

It was serious enough to warrant law enforcement becoming involved when it escalated to the point that this gentleman was actually buying new SIM cards to continue to harass the young lady after she’d blocked him for the umpteenth time.

I went ahead and placed the first warning call.

Me: “…if you continue to contact her in any manner, you will be arrested for harassment. Have I made myself clear?”

Ex-Boyfriend: “You can’t talk to me like that! I’m in a wheelchair!”

Me: “Your disability is completely irrelevant. And—” *extra pleasantly* “—we do have cells and services in the county jail that accommodate inmates who are disabled, as per the Americans With Disabilities Act!”

Ex-Boyfriend: “This is how you treat disabled citizens?”

Me: “It’s how I treat citizens who are breaking the law! Now, again, I am giving you a fair warning. You will be arrested if—”

Ex-Boyfriend: “I’m gonna call my lawyer. You have no right talking to someone in a wheelchair like this. He’s the best lawyer in [City], and he’ll have your badge!”

Me: “You have the right to have a lawyer represent you if you’d like, if you’d rather not speak to me.”

Ex-Boyfriend: “I’m just saying, I’m in a wheelchair, and you will treat me with respect!”

Me: “Do you understand the warning we are giving you?”

Ex-Boyfriend: “No, I don’t understand any of it. Explain it to me in detail.”

Me: “Okay, we’re not going to play games with you, so why don’t you have your lawyer call this office? My name is Officer [My Name], badge number—”

Ex-Boyfriend: *Click*

He then contacted the young lady from another number with, “How dare you call the cops on a man in a wheelchair?! You should be ashamed of yourself!” And so on.

It took a restraining order to send home the message that his wheelchair wasn’t a license to break the law. And as I was told by the serving deputy (whose forceful, powerful voice and intimidating stature had earned him the nickname “Bull”), the guy tried the “You can’t do that! I’m in a wheelchair!” rebuttal on him and was immediately shut down.

I hear faint yelling coming from my brother’s room. I can’t hear what is said, just muffled voices. I am curious, but it’s not my business so I ignore it. Then, my brother walks into the living room laughing in disbelief.

Brother: “So, I was just yelled at for breaking up with this girl.”

I didn’t know he was dating anyone.

Me: “Okay?”

Brother: “By the girl’s dad’s friend. I was yelled at by the girl’s dad’s friend for breaking up with her.”

I blink and start laughing both in amusement and disbelief.

Me: “You were yelled at… by the girl’s dad’s friend? Not the dad, not the girl, not even the brother. The girl’s dad’s friend?”

Brother: “Yeah, he told me to never talk to her again and stuff like that. Her father had given my number to the friend to call and yell at me.”

Yep, my brother was yelled at by the friend of his now ex-girlfriend’s father. For breaking up with her.

I was working on my taxes, filing for the first time as an independent business owner. My boyfriend was watching TV while I filed.

Boyfriend: “Do you have any chips?”

Me: “Uhhh… I think so?”

Boyfriend: “Can you bring them to me?”

Me: “No, I’m doing my taxes. You can get them.”

Boyfriend: “Are we going to [Friend]’s BBQ this weekend?”

Me: “We can.”

Boyfriend: “Do you know what time we’re supposed to be there?”

Me: *Distracted* “Um… no. I don’t know. I’ll look later.”

Boyfriend: “Do we have to take anything?”

Me: “I don’t know. Can we talk about this after I’m done?”

Boyfriend: “Why?”

Me: “Because I’m trying to concentrate.”

Boyfriend: “Oh, okay.”

A few minutes pass.

Boyfriend: “Did you—”

Me: “Please stop talking. I love you but I need you to shut up.”

Boyfriend: “Jesus. Fine. F*** me, I guess.”

He banged the kitchen cupboards while pretending to look for the chips. He knew where they were kept, so I knew he was just doing it to be annoying. This was not the first time he deliberately did things for the sake of annoying me, so I tried to ignore it. Then, he sat down across from me with the bag of chips. He crinkled the bag and grabbed a handful of chips, chewing obnoxiously and open-mouthed.

Boyfriend: “What do you think [ingredient] does for the chips?”

I ignore him.

Boyfriend: “Do you think it’s necessary?”

I ignore him.

Boyfriend: “[My Name]!” *Shakes my shoulders* “I’m talking to you!”

Me: “And I asked you not to! I’m trying to concentrate and—”

Boyfriend: “Why are you so mad?”

Me: “I’m trying to get my taxes done and you keep asking me questions like a f****** four-year-old. GO AWAY!”

I pointed back toward the living room and stared at him. He got up and walked away, but not before closing the lid on my computer. I was so mad I could have screamed. Instead, I took my computer and all my papers and locked myself in my only bathroom.

It was three hours later when I emerged and he was gone. There was a note on the table saying that he would be back when I apologized. After a few days, he called to see if I had even seen his note or if I was too busy with my taxes. I told him I would not apologize, and if he couldn’t handle that, we were over. He hung up.