(I have been hired as a cleaner in a gym. Even though I’m only part time on minimum wage, the work is backbreaking. I don’t mind the wage or the work, but I do mind the boss being a control freak. I sometimes look at the TVs while I’m polishing the mirrors, and he can’t stand it.)

Boss: “I’m watching you. Don’t watch TV. You’re not being paid for that! I’m watching you. I pay you to clean and nothing else! I’m watching you.”

Me: *creeped out*

(Please note this gym is new and sparkling clean, with no dust or grime anywhere. If it were dirty, I’d understand his anger, but it’s clean so I’m a bit miffed. I go to dust the equipment, and am facing the TV but looking down at my work.)

Boss: *swoops* “I saw THAT! Stop watching TV!”

Me: “I only glanced at it.”

Boss: “You were watching. I saw you.”

(Fed up by his craziness, I walked out and never returned. He’s still looking for another cleaner, and I pity whomever he hires next.)

(I and a friend are practicing serves for badminton in gym. My friend hasn’t been doing so well on hitting the birdie, and eventually this exchange occurs.)

Friend: “I believe in the heart of the cards!”

Me: “There aren’t any cards here.”

Friend: “Then I believe in the heart of the racket!”

(He whiffs yet another serve.)

Me: *deadpan* “Your racket has arrhythmia.”

(I work at the front desk of a gym that has locker rooms stocked with mouthwash, deodorant, soap, and hairspray. Our showers are stocked with soap and shampoo. One of our members, a middle-aged man, approaches me at the desk.)

Member: “Excuse me, but why does the mouthwash in the showers taste like shampoo?”

Me: “I haven’t actually been in the men’s showers myself, but I know the women’s showers do not have a mouthwash dispenser — only shampoo and soap.”

Member: “The mouthwash definitely tasted like shampoo. I hope it was mouthwash…”

Me: *turning to my male coworker a few feet away* “[Coworker], do we keep mouthwash in the men’s showers?”

Coworker: “No… there’s only shampoo and soap in there.”

Member: *with a worried look on his face* “Oh. Um, thank you. Bye now.”

(The member leaves immediately.)

Coworker: “Do you think he was joking?”

Me: “No, he was definitely serious. That guy gargled shampoo.”

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(I’m the trainer in a Judo class for kids. It’s the end of the lesson and in order to do this it’s tradition that the children sit down in a row to bow. The command for this is “Mate”)

Me: “Mate!”

(The children sit down, one child is waving his hands and shouts.)

Child: “Teacher, I have to say something!”

Me: “After ‘Mate’ it’s supposed to be silent. I think we have to practice this. Everyone to the wall at the other side! Okay, let’s try it again: Mate!”

(The children run to the wall. After the command they return and sit down, the same child is waving his hands and shouts.)

Child: “Teacher, I have to say something!”

Me: *sigh* “Everyone back to the wall! Okay, once more: Mate!”

(The same thing happens once again.)

Me: *to the child* “You DO realize that we repeat this because of you? You can ask your question after that, okay?”

Me: “Okay, once more: Mate!”

(This time everything works and we can bow to end the lesson.)

Me: “[Child], what do you want to say?”

Child: “I just want to say that I have to leave two minutes earlier, as I need to catch the bus.”

Me: *face-floor*

(I (15) and my brother (19) both have gone to a climbing gym for eight years. I love the place to death, and hope to work their one day, but at this point I’m still too young. Because I love the place so much, I’ve been on all the offered teams, and now I will sometimes hang out while my brother is working during the junior team, for kids 7-14. Because the kids can be loud and rowdy I will help out the staff, telling kids to stop doing stupid things, etc. One day, while I’m climbing in a t-shirt with the gym’s logo on it, a woman approaches with a crying child in tow. My brother works there and is a head team coach.)

Woman: “YOU!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Woman: “A man JUMPED on my son!”

Me: “Okay, does he need ice? I can go ask a member of the staff—”

Woman: “I want the man who did this BANNED from the gym. He JUMPED on my SON! I want him BANNED!”

Me: “So, ma’am, I don’t actually work here, but if your son is really hurt, I think we should talk to someone who actually works here—”

Woman: “I will report you to your manager if you don’t ban that man right now.”

Me: “I actually don’t work here.”

Woman: “Just because your lazy a** doesn’t know how to deal with this doesn’t mean your stupid a** doesn’t work here.”

(Right then, my brother and my friend walk by and the lady just starts screaming at my friend.)

Woman: “YOU! YOU INJURED MY SON! HE’S A CHESS CHAMPION! HE CAN’T PLAY WITH A BROKEN ARM!”

Friend: *starts laughing*

Woman: “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING, YOU A**HOLE! YOU BROKE MY SON’S ARM! HE CAN’T PLAY CHESS LIKE THIS!”

Friend: *to brother* “This kid was doing handstands while I was climbing. He got underneath me, he wouldn’t move, and I fell on him.” *to woman* “You want someone to blame? Blame your son.”

Woman: “WELL, HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW ANY BETTER! HE’S ONLY EIGHT!”

Me: “Ma’am, this gym encourages safety, and I know for a fact that the first thing they say to the team is to be careful around other climbers, so—”

Woman: “YOU! YOU LITTLE S***! THIS EMPLOYEE WAS A TOTAL B**** TO ME AND I DEMAND HE BE FIRED!”

Brother: “Ma’am, this is not an employee. He is a regular customer, and has been for the last eight years. Now, not only has your son violated a safety policy , but you have screamed at my brother and our customers for your son’s mistake. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Woman: “MY SON IS A CHESS CHAMPION, AND HE CAN’T PLAY BECAUSE HE BROKE HIS ARM! YOU KICK THIS LITTLE S*** OUT OR I SUE!”

Brother: “All due respect, ma’am, but your son didn’t break his arm. And even if he did, you can’t sue, because you signed a waiver saying you wouldn’t.”

(The woman left the gym, screaming about chess the whole time.)