I used to work at a chain retailer. As I often worked the closing shifts, I got stuck with doing most of the returns and cleaning at the end of the day. The closing manager was ex-military and ran our minimum-wage a**es as if we had enlisted; he had no problem belittling us in front of customers and often demanded we stay as late as midnight fixing displays and making the store as nice as possible for the opening staff.

After a week of closing with [Manager] every night, I noticed that my paycheck was severely short. We used cards to clock in and out, so they should have reflected that I had stayed late, but it wasn’t adding up.

Me: “Hey, [Manager], I think there’s something wrong with the time clock.”

Manager: “Why?”

Me: “My paycheck is missing several hours.”

Manager: “No, you’re probably just bad at math. Weren’t you homeschooled?”

Me: “That has nothing to do with this. I have an app that tracks my hours to compare my pay. It’s definitely short at least ten hours.”

I showed him the app I use and my pay stub to compare the two.

Manager: “Just because your little app says you’re here, it doesn’t mean you are. Besides, you’re scheduled until 9:00; you get paid until 9:00.”

Me: “Then I’m not staying after closing.”

He stood up, towering over me by over a foot.

Manager: “You will do your job as it is outlined in your job offer.”

Me: “Which states that I get paid $7.50 per hour worked, not per hour scheduled.”

Manager: “Get out.”

I went to my coworkers and they all noticed the same thing. That night, when 9:00 rolled around, we all clocked out and went to dinner at a local diner, instead. [Manager] called repeatedly but none of us answered.

I was pretty shaken up, so I called off the next day and contacted Human Resources, outlining what had happened to my paycheck and what the manager had said. They opened an investigation and found that [Manager] had edited our punches so that it looked like everyone left at 9:00 and he cleaned the whole store by himself.

I did eventually get paid for the time I worked, as did everyone else he had shorted. He was terminated.

There is a very famous retail chain in Canada that is known for giving away small denominations of store credit with most purchases. They are printed on paper and are designed to simulate banknotes. They’re even printed by the same company that makes actual Canadian dollars. The denominations are really small, however. They start at $0.05 and can go all the way up to $2.00, but anything higher than $0.25 is rather uncommon. If you live in Canada, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

If you have enough of these notes, you can use them towards your next purchase at their issuing retailer, just like you would use cash. Once again, the denominations are usually so small that they aren’t very practical. I have never seen anyone try to use them seriously.

Then, there’s my dad. He has been shopping at this chain for at least two decades. He actually saved up all these micro-credits over the years and decided to use them once and for all, so we got in the car and drove to the nearest store.

He only got one item. It was a $17 drain pan for changing your car’s oil. Like a wise guy, my dad pulled out his wad of fantasy money and started laying them on the counter. Imagine trying to pay for your shopping with mostly nickels and dimes; that’s basically what he was doing. The cashier had this crestfallen look on his face, while the customers behind us in line noticed what was going on and walked away to other cash registers.

It was such a cumbersome ordeal that my dad actually lost count a few times. That wasn’t even a cruel joke that some customers like to play; he actually lost count. Counting these bills took so long that the cashier begged my dad to stop. He even offered to just give us the item and deal with the consequences later. My dad was never the type to cut corners, so he declined the cashier’s offer and continued trying to pay him properly.

Once all was said and done, my dad got his pan along with a receipt for his purchase. He even had a lot of his original credit left over. He decided to deposit his remaining credits into a nearby donation bin; there is a charity organization that accepts these notes. As far as I can tell, this is what most customers actually do with these notes.

My dad lives in Canada. I live and work in the USA. 

My dad has been suffering from liver problems lately. He’s been in and out of the hospital a few times. I’m working when I get a call from him. According to the doctors, he has about a 20% chance to live to the end of the week.

I immediately go to my super and ask for the day off. This is granted, and I drive pell-mell to the Canadian/American border. Border security has been tighter lately, and my nerves and twitching attracted some unwanted attention from the border agents. They insist on doing a full search of my vehicle.

Of course, they find nothing.

Halfway through the search, I get another call from my dad. It turns out there was a mixup at the hospital. His test results were mixed up with someone else’s. He now has about a 40% chance of living to the end of the year. Which is better.

I meet with him with a lot of relief, we chat about it, and then I get ready to go back to work. I let my super know what happened.

And he’s pissed. He accuses me of faking the whole thing to get an extra day off, as if I would want to spend half a day getting my car stripped to the g**d*** nuts in customs. He insists that no reasonable doctor and no reasonable hospital would make a mistake like that.

Accidents happen! Especially in stressful environments like that!

After that, I feel like my super is watching me closely and trying to track my paid time off. Finally, I leave for another similar job. The pay’s not better, but at least they don’t treat me like a criminal, you know?

Dad got a new liver before the end of the year, so he’s probably got at least ten more years in him.

A customer has just paid for their groceries using EBT (think food stamps).

Customer #1: “And that small bottle of whiskey over there, please. Don’t worry; I know it’s not covered on EBT. I have the cash.”

As I reach for the bottle, the older customer behind them speaks up.

Customer #2: “Typical! Leeching off the state, but somehow you can afford to drink whiskey! People like you are the reason my taxes are so high!”

Customer #1: “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have been saving for this for a while and this is my little treat.”

Customer #2: “Treat?! People on welfare shouldn’t be able to afford treats! You should barely be able to afford anything!”

Customer #1: “I am on welfare because I am barely able to afford anything, sir!“

Customer #2: “Then get a job!”

Customer #1: “I have two!”

Customer #2: “If you have two jobs, you shouldn’t be on welfare!”

[Customer #1] turns back to me, finishing their purchase and ignoring the other customer.

Customer #1: “Tell me you haven’t been job-hunting since 1960 without telling me you haven’t been job-hunting since 1960, am I right? Thanks, hun! I just wanted this bottle before, but now I need it!”

[Customer #1] left the store, leaving me to deal with a grumpy, moaning old man. Just another day in retail!

A friend just joined a beauty MLM (multi-level marketing company) and was trying to either rope their friends into joining, too, or nagging us to buy their products. One day, it was my time to get the unsolicited offer.

Friend: “You need to try this face cream! It’s amazing!”

Me: “No, thank you. I am using a cream from my dermatologist.”

Friend: “Why do you have that?”

Me: “I have sensitive and dry skin. This one works really well.”

Friend: “My cream is also great for dry skin. It’s all-natural, so you shouldn’t be afraid about it.”

Me: “No. As I said, I have sensitive skin.”

Friend: “But it’s natural! You can’t have a problem with natural ingredients!”

Me: “Eggs are natural, but they also give me a rash. So, really… no.”

Friend: “But it’s natural!”

I ignored the many texts after that and eventually had to block the number. I hope they find a better job soon.