I work in surgical recovery. We sit with the patients while they wake up from anesthesia and make sure they keep breathing. It’s normally not too spicy, especially compared with some other things I could be doing right now. Health crisis, anyone?

Then, there’s this guy. He’s middle-aged, rude, and entitled, and he’s simultaneously sure that he’s HILARIOUS and that he’s the center of the universe. 

As he’s being wheeled away to his room upstairs, he tells my fellow nurse, who is young, fairly attractive, and female:

Patient: “You’ve been a good dog.”

All conversation and movement stop for a long moment. We all stare, dumbfounded. 

Coworker: “I’m sorry, what?”

Patient: “I said you were a good dog. It’s a compliment.”

Without further ado, he departs our lives. I glance at my coworker.

Me: “Did that really just happen?”

I work in a library. We had a patron who allowed her eight-year-old child to run roughshod and unsupervised all over our library. The girl left nasty, profanity-laden notes for my staff to find. We warned the mother multiple times that her daughter needed to remain by her side while in the library.

One day, one of my staff, who suffered a disfiguring injury to her hand some years ago, received a note from this child making fun of her hand. The girl also made some snarky comments to my employee’s face.

My employee handed me the note. I was so furious, I saw red. I confronted the mother and showed her the note.

Me: “You need to take your daughter and leave.”

I consulted with my trustees and we agreed to ban them both for a month.

The mother came back in and tried to argue with me.

Mother: “My daughter is just a baby! It isn’t right for a public library to ban us!”

Me: “It is totally unacceptable for your daughter to harass my staff with her comments and notes.”

The mother actually looked me in the eye and said:

Mother: “What my daughter did wasn’t harassment!”

Me: “You and I have very different ideas of what harassment is.”

She left and didn’t come back for a long time. I’ve barely seen them since.

I’m in my senior year of high school, back in 1999. My girlfriend has been telling me about the creepy guy at her work that likes to be touchy with female employees. He’s a supervisor/lead for the front registers, and when he sets up a female employee on the registers, he leans on them, or he puts his arm around them on their waist or shoulder, or he puts his hand on their hand and tries to hold hands. Basically, he is always encroaching on female employee’s space and touching them inappropriately, especially for a work environment.

My girlfriend tells me that the other day at work when he was setting up her register, he was rubbing her arm and trying to hold her hand, but she pulled it away. She said he’s always doing this to the female employees when he’s setting up or breaking down the registers for them. I was pissed when she told me this and said we should go find him and talk to him, but she didn’t want to; she didn’t want me making a scene.

None of the female workers like being around him because he is always touching. None of the other supervisors/leads are touchy with any employees, just him. None of the women are willing to speak up about it for fear of retaliation or losing their job or just not being believed.

My girlfriend and I happen to be walking through the store one day. We have a couple nights a week where we sit and watch some TV shows and have cheddar-covered popcorn, and we are at the store to buy some. After we enter the store, we walk past the front registers. The creepy guy is at one of them with a female employee. My girlfriend points him out to me.

I look over and, sure enough, he is standing right up next to the female employee. The female employee is standing at the register and her left hand is resting on the counter. The creepy guy is right up next to her, leaning into her so his body is touching hers, and he is runs his hand down her arm and then to the top of her left hand and just holds it there like he is trying to hold her hand. She looks visibly uncomfortable, but she has nowhere to go because he is blocking her in at the counter.

I shout out loudly so everyone around can hear me and point right at him.

Me: “You mean that f*** that’s running his hands all over that female employee?”

My girlfriend grabs my arm and tries to pull me away.

Girlfriend: *Quietly* “Please don’t make a scene. I have to work here.”

Me: *To my girlfriend* “I’m not okay with guys putting their hands on women when it’s unwanted, and he’s doing it right now.”

I glance back over to the creepy guy. He’s now gone through five shades of red and his face matches the color of his work shirt. He is now slowly trying to back away from his female coworker.

I speak loudly at the creepy guy for everyone to hear.

Me: “I don’t know who the f*** you think you are, but you’d better keep your hands off the female workers here or you’re going to have a big problem.”

The creepy guy slunk away and a store manager came up to check on the commotion, but before anything else could happen on my end, my girlfriend dragged me away.

A few days later, my girlfriend said my outburst got a lot of the female employees to speak out about the guy and he was fired. My girlfriend told me that they didn’t have any more issues with any supervisor/lead inappropriately touching other employees the rest of the time she worked there.

I have coworkers from all over the world, meaning we have quite the collection of cultures at work. One male coworker comes in from another country and immediately looks me over like a piece of meat. 

Coworker: “Hey.”

He snaps his fingers at me.

Coworker: “Make me a coffee. Two creams, two sugars. Put it on my desk there.”

He actually points to my desk.

Me: “That’s not your desk; it’s mine. The coffee maker is right there.”

I point a few feet to his right.

Me: “Cream and sugar are in the boxes.”

Coworker: “No, I said you do it.”

Me: “And I said the coffee maker is right there.”

I sit down at my desk and get to work. He stands at the coffee maker for a few minutes before storming off. He reports me to Human Resources for my attitude. Nothing comes from it because it is not actually my job to play work-wife to anyone.

A week later, [Coworker] is sitting in a conference room with his back to the door. I happen to walk by and look through the full-glass door and see that he is looking at nude photos of women. I politely knock on the door, and he slams his computer shut.

Coworker: “What?!”

Me: “Just letting you know the Wi-Fi is monitored.”

Coworker: “Mind your business, b****!”

Me: “Okay.”

Again, he reports me to HR, this time for stalking and harassing him. We are both called into a meeting.

HR: “We need to get this issue behind us. We cannot spend all of our time chasing claims between [Coworker] and [My Name].”

Coworker: “Tell her that she is subordinate to me and there will be no more issues!” *Curls his lip and addresses me* “I will terminate you today.”

HR: “[My Name] is not in your department, and even if she was, you have the same job.”

Coworker: “She is a snoop! She sneaks up on me!”

Me: “He was looking at naked women on his computer in the conference room.”

Coworker: “Bulls***!”

HR: “What?!”

Me: “Check his computer history. It was [date] on lunch hour.”

Coworker: “What I do on my time is my business!”

HR: “What you do on company Wi-Fi is our business. You may go, [My Name].”

I left, listening to [Coworker] complain that I was harassing him and that I set him up — everything except taking responsibility for his own actions. He was terminated that same day.

Years ago, I was young, naive, and unemployed. While I was browsing the graphic design magazines in a bookstore, an older man approached me.

Client: “I see you look really interested in graphic design. I’m looking to hire a graphic designer.”

Me: “Wow, really? I’m looking for a job right now!”

Client: “Let me get you some information about my company. It’s in my car.”

Me: “Okay!”

He came back quickly and showed me binders and business cards about his cultural institution.

Client: “Here’s what I do. If that sounds interesting, give me your phone number and we can set up a meeting.”

Me: “Yes, I would like that!”

The client called a few days later.

Client: “Let’s meet.”

Me: “Okay. Where should we meet?”

Client: “Let’s meet this Saturday evening at [Nightclub/Dance Club].”

Me: “Umm… that’s a dance club. How am I supposed to bring my portfolio there?”

Client: “Don’t bring your portfolio.”