I regularly produce printed materials like postcards, business cards, and now, mobile app graphics. None of my clients have design software on their machines, so I send either low-res PDFs or JPGs in order to show the work and not bung up their email servers with large files.

Me: “Please find attached the first draft of your job. Please note, this is not a print-ready file. Let me know when you’re ready for it.”

Two weeks later:

Client: “Hey, I got your file. The printer says it isn’t print-ready. He says it needs ‘bleeds’.”

Me: “…”

It doesn’t get better with digital products:

Me: “Please find attached the first draft of the app graphics. I’m sending these as JPGs because the finals will need to be in Photoshop, but you won’t be able to view those files. Let me know when we’re approved so I can send you a link to those.”

Two weeks later:

Client: “The app company is saying all the graphics you provided are low res. I need HIGH RES web graphics.”

Sigh.

It takes me about half an hour to walk to work. One day, about forty minutes before my shift, that day’s shift manager calls me.

Manager: “Hi, [My Name]. Can you get to the store in [Other City] for your shift today? They’re short-staffed.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but no. I can make it in to [My City’s Location], but I really don’t have the time to go further than that.”

Manager: “We really need you in [Other City] today.”

Me: “I really have no way to get there, though. I need to set off in the next—” *checks the time* “—eight minutes to even get to [My City] on time.”

Manager: “Then why don’t you get the bus?”

I checked later. It’d take me ninety minutes to get to [Other City] by bus, and my shift starts in thirty-eight.

Me: “I don’t have a bus route planned out, it’d take some time to figure out where I’m going, and I doubt I’d be able to get there for [start time].”

I was right. I would have gotten there over an hour late.

Manager: “We need you in [Other City] at [start time].”

Me: “I am quite literally not capable of travelling there in that time period.”

Manager: “Look, [My Name], are you going to be at [Other City] at [start time]?”

Me: “I’ll certainly try, of course, but almost certainly not.”

Manager: “[Store Manager] needs you to be there for [start time].”

He says this as if invoking the store manager’s name will grant me the ability to teleport.

This pisses me off because the store manager is actually a pretty cool guy and I’m sure he didn’t sign off on this BS.

Me: “I still can’t make it there. It will take me several hours to walk there. Do you want me to do that?”

Manager: “We need you to be at [Other City] at [start time], [My Name].”

At this point, I’m walking out the door of my house.

Me: “Okay, [Manager]. I’m leaving my house now. I won’t be there on time, but I’ll get there eventually. Is that good enough?”

Manager: “Can you confirm that you’ll be there at [start time], [My Name]?”

Me: “No. I probably won’t be. Now can I hang up to use Google Maps on my phone to find my way there?”

Manager: “You need to be there at [start time].”

I hung up.

It took almost three hours of walking through a bright, hot day to get most of the way there, and I had to take a break, sit down, and have a drink when I finally arrived, starting the shift hours late.

Also, I was at no point prior to this informed that working at other stores was something I would possibly be required to do in my job role.

I honestly figured [Manager] had promised [Other City Location] a worker, realised he didn’t have one to send and his a** was on the line, and tried to shift the blame to me by getting me to say I’d be there even though I physically couldn’t be, thus dodging culpability himself.

I work at a sixty-two-unit motel with a bar/restaurant. On slower evenings, I work both the front desk and bar. The bar is directly off the front desk lobby so it’s easy to keep an eye and ear on both.

A few evenings ago, I thought I heard someone in the lobby, so I poked my head out the bar door into the lobby. I saw a man standing at the front desk.

I should mention that I always leave a large laminated paper on the front lobby check-in counter which reads, “For front desk service or to check in, please go to the bar to your left.”

This guy’s left hand was actually on the paper, but apparently, he is illiterate because as soon as he saw me, he yelled before I even had a chance to say hello:

Man: “I’ve been waiting five minutes for a room, b****!”

Guess who didn’t get a room?

I recently started working for a breakfast chain as a dishwasher. I used to only be scheduled in the evenings due to my class schedule, but I’ve started to be scheduled in the mornings. I feel a bit walked over when it comes to this, and I have been trying to come up with a way to stand up for myself.

During one shift, I notice that there are periods of time when the servers are getting breaks despite the rush of customers, while I (and the others in the back of the house) do not. Because customers keep coming in, there is a constant rush of dishes that have to be taken care of for the entire shift, on top of the side work that I need to complete.

Exactly eight minutes before I am scheduled to clock out, I go to the front of the house to get some water. As soon as I lean on the counter, the manager walks by and notices.

Manager: “Oh, [My Name], you look tired! Do you need a break?”

I take a second to process what he’s saying, especially since he’s the one who made the schedule and writes it in multiple places, so he should know when everyone’s schedule is. I look him dead in the eye and get real serious.

Me: “I am scheduled here until two o’clock. I’m supposed to go home soon.”

Manager: “Oh.”

He tries to look away for a second, but I keep eye contact.

Me: “So, can I go home?”

Manager: *Pauses* “Yes.”

I didn’t get in trouble for talking back, and I’m really proud that I was able to stand up for myself just a bit.

Eons ago, we went out to dinner with another couple, all of us enjoying a child-free evening. We decided to try a place that had recently opened. Three of us were drinking water, and the fourth had a lemon-lime soft drink, which, of course, looks like water if you don’t notice the bubbles.

At one point, the waitress came by and refilled all the glasses with water, including the soft drink. When it was pointed out what she did and a replacement was requested:

Waitress: “Well, how much of it did you drink?”

Seriously? She was going to bring a partially full glass as a replacement? No big surprise that the place closed down within a few months.