I’m epileptic. I have both grand mal (falling to the ground convulsing) and petit mal (unresponsive stand and stare) seizures. The time comes for my first job and I have one requirement: I cannot be alone. If the seizure doesn’t kill me, collapsing and braining myself on a counter will. On Sunday nights, only one person works. Great, just don’t put me on for Sundays. Simple. Not to my boss who has four other employees. But [Coworker] watches football, so it has to be me.

I explain, for the thirtieth time, that I can’t be there alone. Tough, he says. I have to have my mom stop by every hour to make sure I’m okay on her one day off. On Monday, my boss calls me to the side.

Boss: “Just so you know, this isn’t because of your epilepsy.”

Great start.

Boss: “But I need someone for Sunday, and if you can’t work it because of your epilepsy, I’m letting you go.”

Me: “So, you are letting me go because my epilepsy makes it where I can’t be alone for my safety?”

Boss: “Yes. It’s not your epilepsy.”

Me: “You just… Never mind.”

Two days later:

Boss: “You need to come back; we are short-staffed.”

Me: “You fired me for having a medical condition. And you want me back? Still can’t work Sundays.”

Boss: “No Sundays.”

Guess who finally agreed as a favor to a coworker and was put on the schedule for Sunday alone? Guess who quit the next day?

I’m sorry my potentially deadly medical condition that you knew I had from the beginning is an inconvenience to you.

I worked in the women’s shoe department at a store. Sometimes, customers would want to order shoes over the phone to be shipped to their houses.

One day, I got a customer call, and she wanted the shoes shipped. We found the shoes and filled all her information out, but when it came time to pay, she wanted to use her credit card. This credit card is with the company, and when you purchase something with the credit card, you get points. Over time, the points you accumulate lead to you getting like ten to twenty dollars off an item. She wanted to use her credit card for points, but she didn’t have the card with her.

Me: “Do you know the number on your card?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Then the only way I can feasibly access your credit card would be for you to give me your social security number. But since that information is confidential, I won’t be able to do that.”

She got really upset with me.

Customer: “I’ve given my social security number at other [Company] locations! What part of this don’t you understand? I need my f****** shoes!”

Me: *Politely* “Do you maybe have another bank card you want to use?”

Customer: “This is getting ridiculous. Let me speak to your manager.”

I passed the phone to my manager. I helped other customers, and I walked by again, and my manager was telling her the exact same thing I had told her.

I’m working at the courtesy counter at a grocery store one night.

Customer: “Can I get [Cigarettes], please?”

Since someone at another store in the chain sold cigarettes to someone they weren’t supposed to, we have to card everyone who buys cigarettes.

Me: “Can I see your ID, please?”

She looks through her bag and she doesn’t have it. She then proceeds to call her friend from the parking lot to come in so the friend can show me her ID, instead. Instant red flag.

The friend comes in and shows me her ID. Lo and behold, she’s underage. Since one doesn’t have an ID and the other is underage, I can’t sell them cigarettes. The friend then walks over to my coworker, who is standing not more than ten feet away from me and heard the entire conversation.

Friend: “Will you buy some [Cigarettes] for us?”

Coworker: “No!”

The two walk out. My coworker and I look at each other.

Coworker: “What the h*** was that?”

I have been “requested” to take over a low-level manager’s position as our last one has quit. [Manager] is several tiers above me and is personally responsible for several people walking out in the middle of a shift. He reminds me of the guy who peaked in high school and spent the rest of his life bullying and gaslighting those around him. He is built like an offensive lineman and often uses that size to intimidate people. I am five feet tall and 110 pounds, so I’m used to people trying to use my stature against me. I think it annoys him that I can’t be bullied by size alone.

Me: “It’s a promotion?”

Manager: “It’s filling a need until a new person is hired to take over.”

Me: “So, I will receive no extra compensation, but I will have more responsibilities?”

Manager: “I can suggest that you formally take over the position when it opens up.”

Me: “But it’s open now, right? That’s why we’re here.”

Manager: *Annoyed* “We would consider you for the position if this arrangement works out.”

Me: “Again, more to do, but no more money to do it. And now no set time frame for how long I would be doing this.”

Manager: *Throwing his arms up* “Is money all that matters to you?”

Me: “Since I’m here to work, it is very important.”

Manager: “I thought you were ready to step up for [Company], but clearly, you’re too immature.”

Me: “I think it’s quite mature to recognize that you’re trying to short me.”

Manager: “Get out of my office, [My Name].”

I left and spread the word to all my coworkers that they were looking for someone to be the low-level manager but did not want to compensate for it. No one took the job offer and it took several weeks to hire someone new to fill the position.

I’m stocking the wine aisle and a frantic-looking man rushes up to me.

Customer: “I need red wine!”

Me: “What kind of red would you like, sir?”

Customer: “My wife said to get the kind we always get for guests. They’re coming in an hour. Help!”

Me: “Okay, sir, and what wine do you always get for your guests?”

Customer: “Well, don’t you know?”

Me: “Why would I know that?”

Customer: “You’re working in the wine aisle; you’re paid to know these things!”

Me: “Sir, I am paid to know the difference between a Cabernet and a Merlot, not what you serve your guests at 7:00 pm on a Thursday night.”

Silence.

Customer: “I think I should call my wife.”

Me: “I think that’s an excellent idea, sir.”