I am a system admin for a small manufacturing company that gets purchased by a much larger corporation; I’m not sure why exactly. As part of the buyout, in email and across the company, it states all employees that are retained keep the requested days off and holidays for that year.

As my wife is going to have some major surgery, I have requested to take a week off and had it all approved. I have my backup lined up: [System Admin #2] and [IT Tech]. 

The new company merges the IT department with HR and I meet my new boss as the old HR staff was all let go. At our first meeting, [New Boss] gives a long-winded spiel about how great the new company is and how they take pride in how they treat employees.

New Boss: “So, anything you think we need to discuss?”

I explain the situation with my wife and tell him that I will soon be taking a week off.

New Boss: “Not a problem.” 

He gives me some more company BS and a “my door is always open.”

I immediately send an email reminding my new boss about our conversation and the dates I will be off. His response is, “Yes, that is what we discussed. Thank you.” I learned to cover my a** a long time ago

Fast forward a month. Literally the week before I will be taking off for my wife’s surgery, [System Admin #2] is let go. I remind [New Boss] that I will be absent for an entire week and they will be without a system admin or IT support other than [IT Tech]. 

New Boss: “What are you talking about? You never told me you would be taking time off, and even if you did it was never approved. And since it wasn’t approved, you will just have to not take your vacation or whatever unimportant issue it is.”

I have a bad feeling, so I email [New Boss] and explain again that it’s a surgery for my wife, it is important, I will be taking the time off as it was approved by previous HR, and it was our first conversation. I also make copies and forward all emails pertaining to the conversation with [New Boss] and the email as part of the buyout — i.e. contract — to my personal email. 

New Boss: “There was never a conversation, and since you never told me and I never approved it, you will just have to figure something out for your wife.”

This email is copied and forwarded to my personal email.

Me: “It was approved prior to buyout and we did have a discussion. I will be taking that week off.”

I copy and forward this to my personal email, too.

Friday before I take the week off, this happens.

IT Tech: “So… Um, you did back up your emails somewhere that is not on our network, right?” 

Me: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

IT Tech: “Well, in case there is an issue and something happens to the exchange server and the backups, it might be a good idea to have some backups for… you know, since the buyout…”

He then walks away. I copy all emails, print them out, and forward them to a newly-created unrelated email account. I head home and have a nagging feeling, so I compose an email to the Corporate Human Resources of the company that bought out our little company. I explain the issue, mentioning that if I am let go while I am off with my wife, I will be retaining a lawyer — never mentioning I have proof of conversation with HR — and telling them they should look into it.  

Lo and behold, the exchange server and our backup get corrupted to the point of losing all the emails for the year. Hmm, suspect. 

I return from taking care of my wife (who is doing much better) and am immediately taken to the board room with [New Boss] and two people from Corporate HR. 

New Boss: “I am going to have to let you go, as you took an entire week of unapproved vacation time off so you could take some trip to who knows where, and we had a major system failure that resulted in a loss of all the company’s emails for several months, which is causing headaches for shipping and accounting.”

Me: “Really. That is odd. We did discuss my week off, as I told you it was for my wife’s surgery and recovery.”

I open my backpack and pull out a binder and a notebook.

Me: “You see, an email was sent to all employees about the buyout, and part of the buyout contract was that we got to retain all approved days off; it was sent out on [Date]. After I spoke with you on [date #1], I sent you an email reminding you. I also reminded you via email on [date #2], and [dates #3, #4, and #5].”

New Boss: “While yes, the first email is correct, there was nothing in your file about approved time off, and also, we never discussed it, and I can’t corroborate your story.” 

Me: “Here is the paperwork of the signed approval form from my old HR.” *Taking paper from the binder* “Here is a printout of me outlining our first discussion and all other emails pertaining to the approved time off.”

I slide over the paper, not to [New Boss], but to the corporate HR employees, who seem to have finally taken an interest.

Me: “Also, you will find that, since this is information only about me and not anything regarding the company, I did not break any laws by sending this information to my personal email.”

Corporate HR: “Can you step outside? We will call you back in shortly.” 

To cut this already long story short, I was called back in, and after a lengthy discussion and the revealing that [IT Tech] also had some emails about being told to do some maintenance on the exchange server and backup, [New Boss] was promptly fired.

[IT Tech] was promoted to Temp System Admin, and his schooling was paid for him to get the correct degree.

As for me, after some heated discussion between me and corporate that mentioned a lawsuit, I was given a decent “bonus,” as well as a severance package — along with a non-disclosure agreement. I was able to easily find another job in my career field and am much happier.

My friend and I are with her mother running errands and we accidentally lock the keys in the car. We call the locksmith and he uses a coat-hanger-like tool to try to open the lock through the driver’s window slot, but he is having trouble.

Locksmith: “This model is a huge pain sometimes. That’s one of the reasons they use them for cop cars. Sorry this is taking so long!”

He keeps working a few more minutes without success.

Locksmith: “Ugh, I still can’t get this one open. I could’ve unlocked every single other car on this block by now!”

Thankfully, he didn’t prove it to us, but we were all a little taken aback nonetheless. He did eventually get the car unlocked, though!

We moved to a new city a few years ago, and around a year ago, we finally got around to switching to a local bank, opening both a checking and a savings account. It was a very small location that was part of a larger branch of a nationwide bank. There were only ever two tellers and two bankers.

Recently, we came into a bit more money, so we were wiring the money from the savings account into an investment account at an investment bank and shutting down the savings account. This should be some straightforward, boring banking. Unfortunately, it was anything but.

Monday morning, I went to the bank with the necessary paperwork. After sitting around a bit, I found out that their computers were down.

Okay. These things happen. I’ll come back tomorrow.

Tuesday morning, I showed back up, paperwork in hand. I was told to wait in the office of one of the bankers. She was not in her office, but she would be back in a minute. This was the first red flag. I could do anything in her office. There was a big glass window into the office, and it was actually a larger single room that was shared by both bankers with a large glass room divider between them. If the other banker was there — which they weren’t — maybe they could make sure I was not up to something nefarious? I mean, I was not planning to rob the bank, but I wanted to know my money was secure.

A minute later, the banker came in. We chatted about the computer problems of the day before as they got set up. “Oh, I had to get a whole new password yesterday!” they told me. I made a sympathetic remark. Then, they easily reached over and brandished an old, tattered half-page of pager with scribbles all over it from a small vertical file organizer standing on her desk. “Here’s my cheat sheet with all my passwords!” they exclaimed.

I just froze. What the f***?! My banker had a cheat sheet of all their passwords, which they kept on top of their desk, and they showed it off to their clients. Okayyyy. Now I needed a new bank. This wasn’t a red flag; this was a giant red banner waving in the wind!

I was sitting there, wondering whether I should say something now or wait to mention it to a superior so they couldn’t destroy the paper and pretend it didn’t exist. As I was trying to nudge my stupefied brain cells into engaging, the banker logged in, and then placed the password list down by their computer. The desk was L-shaped, the computer was in the corner, and the paper was a bit farther down the long side of the L, away from me. But it was still only a few feet away, just lying there.

I chose to stay quiet about this monstrosity for the moment, and we got on with the banking at hand. It turned out that my new investment bank had sent confusing instructions for the wire transfer. They had added an extra routing number that was unneeded. My banker called over to the other banker, who had returned.

This was when I realized that the large glass partition between their desks served no real purpose. One could hear everything everyone was saying quite easily, regardless of which side anyone was on, and because the partition was glass, one could see everything, as well. If they each had customers at the same time, then each customer would be privy to the other’s banking! This was now just one more red flag to add to the list.

The two bankers continued trying to figure out how to wire the money over. During this time, they had to leave the room a few times to grab printouts, so I was left alone with a password cheat-sheet four feet away. I had taken my phone out to email them something, so it would have been insanely easy to open my camera and reach over and grab a pic. I mean, this thing looked like it was three years old and had twenty passwords on it. Who knows how many were active, but, just… what the f***?!

Finally, after a call to my investment bank, they got the money wired and I left in a state of shock. I had chosen not to talk to them about it right then. I was worried that a boss would be close to them and try to sweep it all under the rug. The close proximity of the two bankers and the small nature of the location made me think there was no way other people working there didn’t know about this. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew.

Instead, I plan to talk to someone high up in the parent location of the same branch, which is thirty miles away. Hopefully, whoever I talk to will have some distance from the banker and be sensible about things. Given the very poor layout of the bankers’ shared office, though, I wouldn’t be surprised if not much is done.

I’m planning on closing out my checking account tomorrow, and then I’ll call the head office. I’d be worried about retribution, otherwise. The thing is, neither of these bankers is new to the job. They are both in their sixties and have presumably been doing this for years. One would assume that they’d have some concept of security. But, alas, obviously not. I guess I should just be glad they haven’t been cleaned out yet.

As part of the outreach programming at a small museum, my boss and I run a drop-in “Art in the Park” program for local kids twice a week during the summer. Occasionally, an entire camp shows up with 50+ kids, and they mistakenly assume the two of us being there means they don’t have to help supervise. This time, two summer camps have shown up, we’re totally swamped, and I’m mediating a conflict between two kids with one of the camp counselors when one of her coworkers comes over.

Counselor #1: *With no emotion* “[Student #1] lost his hammer privileges. He used it to hit [Student #2].” 

Counselor #2: “Oh, my gosh! Is [Student #2] okay?”

Counselor #1: “Umm…” *Wanders off*

I look over and see [Student #1] still holding the hammer and swinging wildly at a piece of scrap wood while several other kids also hit it with whatever they can find.

Me: “[Counselor #1]! If they’re going to use the hammers, you need to be right there watching them!”

[Counselor #1] sits down near the kids, but does not look up from her phone at them or me.

Me: “[Counselor #1]! To be safe, only one kid can hammer at once, and you need to be holding the board and nail!” 

[Counselor #1] still doesn’t look up from her phone.

Me: “Kids, if you’re going to use the hammer, [Counselor #1] needs to be holding the nail with pliers. Right, [Counselor #1]?” 

[Counselor #1], literally sitting a foot from me, STILL didn’t look up from her phone. I sighed and just put the hammer away.

(I take insurance claims in a call center. At the end of each call, we tell callers to wait four hours before calling back with questions to allow the claim to work its way through the system. I have just helped a woman in California with a claim and informed her of the four-hour wait time.)

Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with, ma’am?”

Caller: “Yeah… that four-hour time. Does it matter that I’m on Pacific time?”

Me: “Not at all! It’s just four hours from this time now that we are speaking.”

Caller: “Okay… So, it’s 8:30 in the morning here. What time is it where you are?”

Me: “It’s 10:30 in the morning, but—”

Caller: “Right! So, four hours from your time is 2:30, so I should call at 2:30 my time. Right?”

Me: “Well, not exactly. And that wait time is if you have any questions later. You would be able to call about your claim at 12:30 your time.”

Caller: “No, no, no… Four hours from 8:30 is 2:30. I can tell time, thank you!”