At work, we move a lot of long material, anywhere from six feet to forty-five feet long, all depending on customer specs. Local customers sometimes have a local courier company come in with straight trucks to pick up material if they’re in dire need.

For a lot of our local deliveries, we’ll use long, metal carts to set material on, and that way we can easily move the material off and on trailers. These large metal carts make it easy to push on and pull off trucks with a forklift. The carts are designed to roll on wheels, so all the weight on these carts is focused on four metal wheels that contact the ground.

It’s a busy summer day, and we have a local customer that’s “HOT, HOT, HOT!” for some material that’s just come through packing, and they want the material right now. They can’t wait for us to get it scheduled out to them in the next day or two as we fit it into our delivery schedule. We pass along the dimensions of the material, how it’s packed, and how much everything weighs. The material in question is maybe sixteen feet long and has a total weight of 10,500 pounds, including the carts that the material is on. The customer sets up a courier to come in and pick up the material.

A local courier company shows up about an hour later with a twenty-foot straight truck that’s rated for 9,000 pounds.

I tell the driver that we won’t load him because his truck is only rated for 9,000 pounds and we’ll have almost an extra two thousand pounds of weight over his rated limit. The driver is irate that we don’t load him, and he starts to complain.

Driver: “I’ve taken loads heavier than this on my truck just fine. I’m giving you permission to load it.”

I tell the forklift operator to not load it and that I’m going to call the courier company to let them know about the situation so they can get a different truck here.

In the five minutes that I’m gone, the courier driver convinces the forklift driver that it’s okay and that he (the driver) will take all responsibility for being overloaded. The material is packed in cubes/bundles and stacked on carts and then strapped to the carts to keep it from moving. As the forklift driver starts to roll the first cart onto the truck, the weight of the cart on the wood floor of the trailer is too much for the flooring to hold; about ten feet onto the truck, the wheels on the cart break through the floor of the truck, and the cart comes crashing down with a loud bang!

The loud bang is followed by screaming out on the dock as the driver starts cussing up a storm and yelling at the forklift driver for breaking through the floor of his truck and putting two large holes in the floor.

I go out there, and the driver starts yelling at me that we’re going to pay for his truck floor to be fixed, and blah, blah, blah. I tell him to shut up as I talk to the forklift driver. I get the forklift driver’s side, and I ask some questions of the driver. He confirms everything that the forklift driver told me.

Driver: “Yes, I said I would take all responsibility for being overloaded. But you guys broke the floor, and you’re going to pay for it!”

Me: “That’s not going to happen. You were informed that this load was more than your truck is rated for, and you confirmed that you’d take all responsibility, and then you talked the forklift driver into loading it for you. We won’t pay for anything, and after we get this material and cart off your truck, you will be leaving.”

He tried to argue more with me, and I just walked away. I called the courier company back up and spoke to the same guy I had just gotten off the phone with a few minutes prior. I told him everything that transpired, and he told me that that particular driver has been troublesome with other customers he’s picked up from, and he’s always trying to take loads he’s not rated for. He also told me that we won’t be held responsible for any damages caused to the truck and that he already had a new truck that can safely move the material en route to our facility.

In the end, the troublesome driver left, and the forklift operator got a verbal warning about not following instructions and a lesson in why overloading a truck is not only dangerous for us but also for people on the road.

A new driver showed up about thirty minutes later with an appropriate truck, and we loaded him up without any issues.

I am an early morning stocking associate at a pet store with a grooming salon. Though the retail part of the store doesn’t open until 9:00 am, grooming appointments can be made as early as 7:00 am. Before 9:00 am, the automatic sensor on the door is turned off. People are supposed to use the buzzer to tell us they are here, but because we are in the store, it’s actually unlocked.

I was unloading a truck when I heard the buzzer go off. I expected it to stop after a second or two, but it didn’t; it kept going. As I got closer, I heard someone kicking the door, as well. Thinking it was an emergency outside, I ran to the front of the store. A woman was standing there with her dog under her arm.

Customer: “It’s about time! Now I’m late!“

Me: “I didn’t hear the buzzer before this.“

That buzzer is so loud you can hear it anywhere in the store, so I know she didn’t hit it before the long buzz. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 7:41. Our groomers schedule every fifteen minutes, so she was either eleven minutes late or four minutes early.

Customer: “When did you start locking the doors?”

Me: “It was unlocked, ma’am.”

Customer: “No, it wasn’t. It didn’t open when I walked up.”

Me: “The motion sensor was off, but it was unlocked.”

Customer: “Don’t argue with me!”

She pushed past me, and though I was irritated, I didn’t say anything. At the back of the store, the grooming is to the right and the back room where I was unloading the truck is to the left. I turned left, and the woman turned around at the grooming entrance and followed me.

Customer: “I want your name.”

Me: “It’s [My First Name].”

Customer: “Your full name.”

Me: “That is my name, ma’am. Have a nice day.” 

I started to walk away again.

Customer: “I’m not done with you!”

Me: *Over my shoulder* “I thought you were late?”

She turned and marched into the grooming salon. I heard later that she tried to tell grooming that I had laughed at her from inside the front door and given her the finger before unlocking it. The manager of the salon told her she would watch the camera footage and deal with me appropriately. I asked the manager if she really was late. She was; her appointment was at 7:15 and she was forced to reschedule.

The store building at this petrol station is tiny. We only sell cigarettes, snacks, drinks, air fresheners, and that sort of thing.

There is no cash register at all; we have a desk calculator and a clipboard. That’s it. Instead, to balance the till, you do a complete inventory of the store at the beginning and end of every shift — so many of each type of chocolate bar, flavour of chips, type of soda, etc. — noting the numbers on an inventory sheet. It isn’t too onerous, as there are only something like a hundred different items in the store.

You subtract the number of each left at the end of the shift from the number at the start of the shift, multiply by the price, add all the items’ amounts up, and that’s what your till should contain. It works surprisingly well.

Working the overnight graveyard shift — 11:00 pm to 7:00 am — you see some real characters. One night as I was finishing my shift, a guy came in and saw what I was doing. He asked about it, and I explained. He then spoke cockily about how he could make life difficult for me by buying a bunch of different things and how I would have to recount everything.

So, he did, in fact, buy a dozen things, gloating about how much work he was causing me. After handing him his change, I quickly scratched out “17” and wrote “16” for the first item and went down the sheet changing the number for each of the things he bought.

I guess he forgot about subtraction. He stormed out, unhappy.

I am called in for my annual review at work. Normally, [Old Boss] would do this, but she is out on maternity leave, so we have [New Boss], who had been here for a whopping two weeks.

New Boss: “Okay, [My Name], I want to go over the positive, and then the negative, and then your raise. Okay?”

Me: “Okay, sure.”

New Boss: “First, it’s great that you’re always early to your shift, and I love that you are willing to come in on your day off and stay late if we need you. That is A+ behavior, and I really appreciate it. I’m sure your coworkers do, too.”

Me: “Nice, thank you. I really enjoy being here.”

And I do; I actually really love my job and do my best.

New Boss: “Now, the bad news.” *Dramatic pause* “You are… so eager to jump in and help out that it is hindering other people from growing in their positions.”

Me: “Oh… Okay.”

New Boss: “So, yeah. While your go-getter attitude is great for you, it is actually harmful to everyone else’s evaluation. You know?”

Me: “Not really.”

New Boss: “Look at it like this. Do you know how teachers sometimes curve scores to help the lower scorers get higher scores? It’s like that. But if you’re always giving 110%, everybody else automatically falls short. Again, we appreciate you stepping in when everyone else steps out, but… I don’t know how else to explain this to you. Do you get it?”

Me: “Um… I don’t really know what to say. Your criticism is that I’m making everyone else look bad by doing what they are not willing to do?”

New Boss: “I guess you could look at it like that. Seems kind of negative, but that’s okay.”

She begins crossing things out on the review.

Me: “But it was the negative part. I don’t understand why—”

New Boss: “Okay, so! Based on your review, I have determined that your raise will be five cents.”

Me: “Uhh…” *Laughs* “Really?”

New Boss: *Frowning* “Yes. It was ten cents, but your behavior in this meeting made me reconsider.”

Me: “Okay… Thanks.”

I stopped going above and beyond, only working the exact shifts I was scheduled, even if it meant leaving tasks unfinished and telling customers I was no longer available to help them in the middle of a conversation.

My paycheck dropped dramatically, and [New Boss] was furious, but given that her review had stated I was doing too much, she couldn’t do anything.

When [Old Boss] returned, she re-reviewed everyone and offered me a $2 raise if I would consider going back to helping out as much as I had. I was so happy to have [Old Boss] back, I jumped at the opportunity.

I work in a charity bookshop. We accept donations of books, sort them, and set them out for sale. We have many regular customers who buy a few books, read them, return them, and buy more; our books are very cheap. An elderly gentleman I don’t recognise comes in and browses for a few minutes, chooses three books, and approaches the desk.

Me: “Hi. Just these three?”

Customer: “Yes, hold on…”

He hands them to me and rummages in his bag. He pulls out three books that have our price stickers on. I know they are from a few weeks ago as we have a date code on them.

Customer: “I’ve got these to give back to you.”

Me: “Oh, thank you! Okay, your total is £2.25.”

Customer: “I gave you those books back.”

Me: “Yes, thank you. I’ll add them to the donations.”

Customer: “So, we’re okay, then?”

He picks up the three books he chose.

Me: “Um, yeah. Okay, £2.25, please.”

Customer: “No, I gave you three books.”

Me: “Yes, and we appreciate the donation. Did you want to buy these ones?”

Customer: “I gave you three; I’m taking three. Why do you want money?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we’re a bookshop. We raise money for our charity. We do appreciate all donations, but we don’t give books away; we sell them.”

Customer: “So, I can’t take these?”

Me: “You can if you pay £2.25.”

Customer: “I paid for the other three!”

Me: “Yes, but if we just swapped books for free, we’d be a library. Do you want to pay for these or not?”

Customer: “Not!”

And out he stomped.