I work in a giant retail location. At the time of this story, the state had been forcing us to put individual price stickers on each and every single individual grocery item. The devices they gave us to print the stickers with were terribly finicky and difficult to load, they suffered frequent paper jams, and we often just weren’t able to change the numbers they would print, forcing us to go back and get a completely new device when we needed to print a different price.

On top of this, the store, which had put us all on timers to complete stocking our area, refused to add any more time to our tasks to account for all the extra time taken dealing with the pricing devices, which did end up getting some of us written up for failing to meet time goals. We were all in varying stages of irritation with the process, to put it gently.

Then, one day, we got wonderful news! The state would no longer be requiring us to use the price stickers on merchandise anymore! However, management explained to us the prerequisite for this.

Manager: “Okay, team, so you’ve all heard that the state is going to be giving us a waiver making us exempt from having to put price stickers on grocery merchandise.”

There were audible sighs of relief and even a couple of cheers.

Management: “Yes, yes, this is good, but we need to pass an inspection first. The state is going to send someone to our store who is going to inspect a random grocery area, and if every item has a sticker with the right price on it, we get the waiver. However, if anything is missing a sticker or has the wrong price, we’ll have to keep putting stickers on everything until the inspector comes back again to see if we pass the inspection that time.”

Coworker #1: “Wwwwwhat?! That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! We don’t have to print stickers anymore, but in order to not have to print stickers anymore, we have to have printed stickers perfectly on absolutely everything?”

Coworker #2: “Yeah, and how would they know the difference between a sticker not having been put on something and the sticker just having fallen off?”

Manager: *Nodding* “I completely agree, but I can’t make the state change their rules. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d dare say their methods may just have something to do with the fact that they get to charge the store a fee each time they have to come out for an inspection.”

There was much grumbling, but we mostly accepted reality. It took us nearly half a year of roughly monthly inspections before we finally passed and were able to stop using those infernal devices.

This happened a few years ago when I was the groundskeeper at a small hospital. In addition to the plants and greenery, I also maintained the parking lot. In the winter, we were very, very generous with our use of sand in the parking lot for pedestrian traction. We couldn’t have patients or staff falling on their way in.

Every spring, once the snow was done for the season, I had to clean up the parking lot. In addition to all the sand, there was usually garbage and stuff that had been hidden under the snow. Usually, I used heavy equipment with a broom attachment, but this particular year, my supervisor brought me a few hundred feet of fire hose, all the fittings, and the special tools required to open a fire hydrant valve. There was a fire hydrant at one end of the parking lot, near an entrance to the lot from a side street, between the sidewalk and the lot. Another hydrant was at the other end of the lot, outside the building.

Me: “Whoa, this is neat. Is the fire department coming to wash our parking lot this year?” 

Supervisor: “No, you’ll be doing it; that’s why I’ve brought you all this equipment.” 

Me: “I’m guessing we have the permission needed to use the fire hydrant? I don’t imagine the City or the Fire Department want just anyone using the fire hydrants.” 

Supervisor: “These fire hydrants actually belong to the hospital, so we don’t need any special permission.” 

This surprised me.

Me: “Really?” 

Supervisor: “Yes.” 

Me: “Are you sure?” 

Supervisor: “Yes.” 

Me: “Are you super certain, [Supervisor]?”

Supervisor: “Yes!”

Me: “Okay, if you say so!” 

I sort of had my doubts, but my supervisor had never led me astray before, so I made plans for my task. I waited for a sunny day above zero degrees. Due to the shape and layout of the lot, I decided to start at the side entrance first, close to the hydrant, and make my way closer to the centre of the lot. All the sand and garbage would be forced to a particular spot where I would remove it from the lot entirely later. I would have to close parts of the parking lot, in sections, so that vehicles weren’t parking in my workspace — and so that I didn’t accidentally blast anyone’s vehicle with high-pressure water. 

Finally, the day to clean the lot arrived. I hooked up my fire hose, ensured that all of the fittings were correctly in place, and opened the valve. As people parked where I wasn’t working, many admired or made comments about my using a fire hose and fire hydrant. Most were surprised that I was allowed to do this. 

A few minutes in, a City truck drove by. I waved, as I usually do when they drive by. Ten more minutes passed, and another City truck drove by. There was a City park nearby, so I figured the City workers were getting a jump start on spring cleaning in the park.

After a few more minutes, an unmarked truck drove into the parking lot and around my barricades. I was annoyed because some people don’t think that signs or barricades apply to them. A man got out of the truck and approached me.

Man: “Hi. I’m [Man] from the City. You cannot use this fire hydrant.” 

I immediately shut off the water.

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m [My Name] from the hospital. My supervisor, [Supervisor], instructed me to do this. I’ll admit, I was surprised this was allowed!” 

Man: “It’s not. Is your supervisor around?” 

Me: “I saw him get in a few minutes ago. Let me give him a call.” 

I called [Supervisor] and told him that [Man] from the City was shutting me down and that he wanted to talk to him. My supervisor agreed and said he’d be right over. 

I asked [Man] if he was okay with me closing the valve and disconnecting my hoses and fittings. He said yes, and he double-checked afterward that the hydrant was secure. 

My supervisor arrived, and he and [Man] had a good chat while I started wrapping up hundreds of feet of hose. As it turned out, we did “own” the hydrant outside the building but not the hydrant on the side street. We could technically use the hydrant outside the building, but probably due to the way that water was delivered to the hydrants, we would still need permission from the City to use it — more of a heads-up, so that if there was a fire elsewhere in the city, the firefighters would be aware that a hydrant was already in use and to shut us down if more water pressure was needed for the real fire. 

My supervisor did not fight the City on this, but he did decide that this was too much of a hassle for cleaning up the parking lot. While it was fun to use a fire hose, I agreed that I could clean the lot like I usually did: with heavy equipment on a rainy day. I don’t know what happened to the fire hose and fittings my supervisor got.

I work in a small office of a very large government department responsible for a very important set of benefits. We are the public-facing team, so anything people need as far as filing claims or checking on status comes through us. For many of the recipients, it is a very important and life-changing set of benefits, so getting emotional about it isn’t uncommon, but there’s still no reason for rudeness.

A claimant came into the office and was upset right from the start.

Claimant: “I need to talk to someone now. Some idiot messed up and canceled my appeal. This is totally unacceptable, and you should all be ashamed of yourselves, treating me this way!”

I could hear this all the way in the back offices where I worked.

Our front desk took his information and passed it back to me, warning that he was “a little upset”. As I came to collect him and bring him back to the office, he expressed more of his feelings on the issue.

Claimant: “I can’t believe this. What are you all even doing here if you can’t process a simple appeal without screwing it up? I want to know who did this, and I want them to suffer. I want them to suffer for their stupidity!”

At that point, I hadn’t even opened his record yet, and even if I had, we do not give out employees personal information for safety reasons, even if we have made a legitimate error.

Claimant: “I just pray that you can actually do your job; I’d really hate to have to get the senator’s office involved because you all are too incompetent.”

Me: “Okay, sir, just give me a moment to find out what happened.”

I got into the file and started reviewing. Sure enough, he did have an appeal that had been canceled, complete with a cancelation letter and everything. I started worrying because someone may have legitimately made a very serious error. However, I kept looking, going back to the actual date of the cancelation. I saw some paperwork on file and had to fight very hard to maintain a professional attitude. I opened up the file, reviewed it, and flipped my screen around.

Me: “Well, sir, can you confirm if this is your signature here?”

Claimant: “Yes, that’s me. What is all this?”

Me: “This would be the appeal withdrawal form. And you’ll see right there in the first paragraph that it says, ‘I am satisfied with the current state of my claim and wish to withdraw all further appeal activity.'”

Claimant: “That’s… I didn’t…”

Me: “And right here, above where you signed is the part saying that you understand that this would terminate all activity on this appeal.”

Claimant: “I didn’t realize… That wasn’t my intention at all.”

Me: “I’m sure it wasn’t. However, we are required to act as the claimant indicates in the completed form, and you’ve already confirmed that you did sign this form. So… is there anything else I can look into for you today?”

Unfortunately for him, the appeal had been at a higher level of jurisdiction than our immediate office, and the upper office is not required to reopen someone’s appeal if that person was the one who requested a cancellation. But we were able to at least submit the request for consideration. I hope they gave him a break in the end, but I never found out. He was dead silent for the rest of the interview save for answering the necessary questions for the request and left without another word. Please, people, read things before you sign them.

At least, in the end, he got his wish: he found out who the idiot was, and they most definitely suffered for their stupidity.

I’m a graphic design contractor for a large government agency. I’m the only contractor on my floor, and I’m also the only “arty person” as they call me. One morning at about 8:27, a client walks into my cube.

Client: “G’morning. I was wondering if you could help me with a graphic I need for this presentation.”

Me: “Not a problem. I’m actually just finishing up a few things this morning and can jump right on it. What are we doing?”

Client: “It’s actually really simple…”

She goes on to describe what is actually a pretty simple graphic, and by simple, I mean four to six hours of work but easily doable by the next day.

Me: “I like it. That’ll be really fun, and I definitely see what you mean about it tying the presentation together.”

Client: “Oh, good. I knew you could help! I was so panicked when they gave me this for the staff meeting today.”

Me: “Wait. The staff meeting today?”

Client: “Yes!”

Me: “The one at 9:00?”

Client: “Yes?”

Me: “The 9:00 in eighteen minutes?”

Client: “Yes. It’s a really simple graphic.”

Me: “There is no such thing as a fifteen-minute custom graphic!”

Client: “But I explained it; it’s really simple. Give me the fifteen-minute version.”

Me: “I don’t want anyone here seeing a product coming from my desk that I only had fifteen minutes to do.”

Client: “No one will know I got it from you!”

Me: “I’m the only graphics person here!”

Client: “But I’m really over the barrel here! Can you please help me out?”

Me: “I’ll see what I can pull off. Please get out of my cube and come back in fourteen minutes.”

Client: “I’d really like to stay and watch.”

Me: “No. Get out, and come back in thirteen minutes.”

It was awful. But what was worse: she loved it.

She has done this to me two more times. I have now officially told her that no matter how simple her request is, I will not help her without forty-eight hours of notice before her presentation.

My girlfriend wanted to visit during the Big C times [the global health crisis], but her government refused to send out her vaccination certificate. She had been fully vaccinated, so nobody could figure out what the problem was there. Regardless, we decided to use a type of form only my country had, for visiting lovers and family, that would allow her in even without a vaccination certificate.

But the airline worker took one look at that, said, “No,” and cancelled her flight!

Supposedly, she thought the form was fake and my girlfriend would be refused entry and have to fly back.

It took us three days to get that airline to fess up and actually take a few minutes to check that, yes, that document and rule were completely legit! Something the airport worker could have done on the spot!