I’m waiting for my table to be ready at an Italian restaurant. The manager is discussing something with the host at the host stand.

A guy comes in with his daughter. She’s carrying an oversized sugary drink from the nearby Dunkin’ Donuts. As soon as the manager sees the guy, he says:

Manager: “Nope.”

Customer: “What do you mean, nope?!”

Manager: “Last week you both came in, and you complained that your daughter’s fettuccini alfredo was too strong and made her stomach hurt.”

Customer: “Well, it did! We’ll order something else today.”

Manager: “This was, of course, after your daughter had almost finished the alfredo, and downed XL Dunkin’ Donuts iced chocolate drink that you fought with our host to bring in because you were going to spend hundreds of dollars.”

Customer: “I don’t like what you’re—”

Manager: “—And also after the alfredo was comped, and you still had the audacity to take the rest home in a takeout box.”

Customer: “It’s my right to—”

Manager: “—And you then tried to use an expired coupon, which we granted for you anyway just to get you out of here, telling you not to come back.”

Customer: “You’re not supposed to remember all that!”

Manager: “Sir, how could I forget all that after what you told me my mother was capable of in an inappropriate context. And in front of your daughter no less. No, sir, we have not forgotten you and will not be entertaining you again. Please leave.”

Customer: “You’re discriminating against single dads who are just trying to get their daughter nice food!”

Customer’s Daughter: “Mom’s at home, Dad. You told her to stay there—”

Customer: *Shouting over his daughter.* “—Screw all of you!”

He storms out, daughter in tow.

Manager: *Sighs, then looks at me.* “Sir, I think your table is ready for you now.”

Me: “Thanks. I wish I’d come in last week for the show, but that was also kinda awesome!”

The meal was amazing, the staff excellent, and inspired by the encounter I witnessed, I ordered the fettuccini alfredo with zero regrets!

Back in the early 2000s, I took an English class with a very strict teacher who was nearing retirement. She used a website that checked for plagiarism and reference checks. If anyone was caught plagiarizing or if the website could connect something you wrote to a Wikipedia page, you automatically failed and had a day of after-school detention. 

I wrote my paper, ran it through the website that the teacher used, and it came back clear.

When I got my paper back, there was a huge red “0%” across the entire front page. I flipped through the report and saw that she had circled four words and put a frowny face over the phrase. At the end of class, I stayed behind to talk to the teacher.

Me: “Hi. I was wondering why I failed this assignment?”

Teacher: *Flips to another page.* “Right here. You plagiarized this.”

Me: “It says “red, white, and blue.” That’s… everywhere.”

Teacher: “Well, the plagiarism check system flagged it as a direct quote from Wikipedia.”

Me: “It… I didn’t use Wikipedia. “Red, white, and blue” is very common.”

Teacher: “So you did plagiarize. Why are we having this conversation?”

Me: “Because I didn’t plagiarize anything. This isn’t right.”

Teacher: *Drops my paper on the desk.* “You’re going to be late for your next class. Detention is tomorrow, 3-5 pm.”

I took my paper and left. At the end of the day, I asked to speak to the principal. He heard me out and agreed that “red, white, and blue” was so common it should not count as plagiarism. The next day, I went to English class, both nervous and a little smug.

Teacher: “Apparently, some of you feel I am not doing my job correctly.” *She looks at me.* “If you have an issue with the way I run things, talk to me.”

She goes on to rant about how much time and effort she puts into educating us and how upset she gets when someone “tattles” to the Principal. I tried to leave with everyone else, but she called out to me.

Teacher: “Give me your paper.”

I hand it over, and she writes “70%” at the top. This is the lowest score before failing.

Teacher: “Get out.”

Me: “What else was wrong? There are no other notes. I don’t think—”

Teacher: “Go. Now.”

So, I went back to the principal. He was pretty irritated and called her in. She came in, saw me, and rolled her eyes.

Teacher: “Yes?”

Principal: “Run through this paper with me. I’ve read it several times and fact-checked the key points myself. I just don’t see how it’s only worth 70%.”

Teacher: “It was poorly written, lacked detail in important parts, and was overly detailed in others. Plagiarism aside, a 70% is generous.”

Principal: “[My Name], you can go home.”

Teacher: “She has detention.”

Principal: “I am overriding that decision.”

The next morning, [Principal] called me to the office. He returned my paper with a new score of 95%. The only notes from [Teacher] were things like not using an Oxford comma or only putting one space between a period and the beginning of the next sentence.

Me: “Thank you.”

Principal: “I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. That being said, please be extra careful in the future.”

[Teacher] spent the rest of the year going over my homework and tests with excruciating detail. She continued deducting points for small punctuation errors and other petty things. I knew the other students weren’t critiqued that harshly, and I could have argued, but I just wanted to finish the class. I passed with an 86% overall.

We have a coworker who has a little sign on her desk that says “Life’s a b****, and so am I.” If she were a hard worker who had our backs, I could handle the occasional b****y comment, but she’s lazy, back-stabbing, and generally just an unpleasant person. 

Also, she seems to think being a b**** is a fun personality trait that we just have to accept because “that’s just how I am,” and pushing back against it means we’re not accepting her for who she is. 

One time, during a team meeting, she was being particularly obnoxious. I was also having a bad day, so I was losing the ability to filter my thoughts the longer the meeting went on.

Eventually, after implying that an absent department head is disabled because he “forgot” about the meeting:

Coworker: “I’m not trying to be a b****—”

Me: “—Oh, so it comes naturally, then?”

She paused, glaring at me. She then appealed to the CEO that I should be disciplined for my outburst.

CEO: “Don’t you have a sign on your desk saying that you’re a b****?”

Coworker: “Well, yes, but—”

CEO: “—So are you? Or are you not?”

Coworker: “That’s not the point. It’s not professional to—”

CEO: “—To have that sign up on your desk where everyone can see it, I agree. Please remove it from your desk after the meeting.”

Coworker: “…”

CEO: “Also, [Department Head] isn’t here at the meeting, not because he forgot about it, but his wife gave birth to their baby six weeks early. I’m sure you’ll join the rest of us in sending out congratulations to him as he goes on his paternity leave, yes?”

Coworker: “…”

CEO: “Now… where were we?”

[Coworker] removed the b****y card from her desk as instructed. She also didn’t say another word to me for the rest of the week, so I’d also call that a win.

While working at a pizza chain a few years back, I got a call from a lady about her online deal not working for the two pizzas she wanted to order.

Caller: “The deal is for £20 off an order over £50! I want that deal!”

Me: “That deal code has expired, I’m afraid. But good news, since you’re only ordering pizza and not sides, I can give you a code for 40% off any pizza order over £40. This will save you more money.”

Caller: “No! I want the £20 off £50 deal!”

Me: “I can’t do that, madam. As I said, that deal has expired, but with the other code, you could save—”

Caller: “—I don’t care about how much I can save with the other deal! I want the deal I asked for! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! HOW CAN YOU NOT COUNT MONEY WHEN YOU WORK IN RETAIL?!”

I passed the call over to my manager, who listened to about ten seconds of her abuse, and then decided to give her the deal she wanted with an override on the computer.

Manager: “…Okay, so your total comes to £55, and with £20 off, that’s £35.”

Caller: “Yes, finally!”

Manager: “Okay, those pizzas will be with you soon. Oh, and if you’d used the voucher my colleague offered, it would be £33, which is £2 cheaper.”

Caller: “What, wait—”

Manager: “—Goodnight!” *Click.*

Last year, for the sixth time since we bought our house, our mortgage was sold to yet another company. I’ve never been late paying it, have occasionally made extra payments, and never had any issues.

But this new company wants to charge me a $14.95 “convenience” fee to take a payment online. This is absolutely stupid. I can make a payment over the phone and pay another fee, or I can mail a check/money order for no fee. Also, I can set up auto-pay, giving them access to my bank account, but that’s a hard no from me.

So, I went online, and my bank has a neat bill pay service where you can set it to repeat weekly, monthly, etc.

Took the monthly payment, rounded it up a bit, then set my bank to cut them a check every week for a bit over 1/4th the amount. Doesn’t cost me a dime – I don’t even pay postage. I’m sure the money comes out of the account a little earlier than the mortgage company actually gets it, losing me a tiny bit of interest or something, but man, it makes me feel better that, for trying to charge me $15 for what is essentially an automated process for them, they now get to process 4-5 checks a month. And, sure, I’m sure they have that whole process down to an art for minimal human interaction… but it’s not zero.

I really wanted to press my luck and send 1/30th of the payment every day, but I figured my bank might cut me off at that point.