A couple of my friends and I are grabbing food at a sub shop. There appears to be only one employee in sight.

Employee: “What do you want?”

Friend: “Can I have [order] with the Italian bread?”

Employee: “We’re out of Italian bread.”

Friend: “Well, can I have the herb one, then?”

Employee: “We’re out of that, too.”

Friend: “What bread do you have?”

Employee: “We have [bread #1] and [bread #2].”

The employee opens the bread bin behind him and shows us that there are exactly three loaves of bread left. This would be great because there are exactly three of us, but I’m a little nervous because I’m a picky eater and haven’t tried these before.

We grumble a little, but we order with the weird bread and move on. A second employee arrives to put our orders through the till. As we are paying, some more customers come in who we recognise.

Friend: “They’re out of bread.”

New Arrival: “Wait, what?”

Friend: “Yeah, we just got the last ones.”

Employee: “No, no, don’t worry about that.”

And then, the employee went out of sight behind the bread bin and returned with a full tray of the Italian bread. We were fuming but could not find the words to speak. When one of the new customers requested a different bread, he went and got it.

My friends and I had already paid for our food, which we technically did order, so we thought we had no leg to stand on and just left. Luckily, the replacement bread was edible, if not all that nice.

Unfortunately, I did not complain. I was young and raised under a rock and did not know that was a thing I could do. It’s a little late to go back now.

My night security guard patrols the site and watches the cameras. It’s not a job for everyone, but it’s easy work and the pay isn’t bad.

After a series of vandalism issues, we install patrol beacons. Security has to follow a set route and scan the barcodes throughout the shift. The idea is that we’ll know the key areas of the site are being checked at regular intervals, and it doesn’t hurt to make sure they are doing their job properly when left alone.

[Security Guard] instantly has a major issue with this, threatens to quit, claims his rights are being infringed, etc., etc., etc. I tell him to stop being an idiot; this is what he should have been doing all along, it is zero extra work, and it’s in his contract. 

I check the scans one morning after his shift and somehow he is doing the patrol at record speed. Normally, we want a slow walk so they can look around, but [Security Guard] must be running full speed all the way round. For an obese guy in winter gear who often uses a mobility scooter, this doesn’t seem right.

I check the camera footage from the security hut and it’s black; it’s recording but black. Something isn’t right.

After a couple of days with the same pattern, I get up at 2:00 am and go to the site, passing three security cameras. I manage to walk up to the security hut without being questioned and open the door to find [Security Guard] asleep, the camera covered, and a printout of all the security beacons sitting on his desk

I’m angry, but I see his car keys on the desk and have another idea. I take his car and move it behind the skips and out of view. I sneak back to the hut and hang the keys in the key box — which he should also check — and leave.

Despite having little to no sleep, I’m back on site early to check on [Security Guard]. 

Security Guard: “Oh, no, oh, no, oh no!”

Me: “Something wrong, [Security Guard]?”

Security Guard: “Someone has stolen my car!”

Me: “From here?”

Security Guard: “Yes! They must have. They must have taken it when I did my patrol.”

Me: “Oh, no. What time?”

Security Guard: “Why does that matter?”

Me: “If I know the time, I can check the recording. Was it your 8:00 pm or 2:00 am patrol?”

Security Guard: “I don’t know.”

Me: “But you watch the cameras all night. Surely you would have noticed your own car missing? Or did you fall asleep?! Not doing your patrols, like you have been all week?”

Security Guard: “No, I haven’t. I—”

Me: “Your keys are in the key box. Your car is still in the car park; I moved it this morning. Come in early tomorrow for a meeting on your performance.”

He didn’t show, and he never came back after that. We employed another guard the next day. Vandalism is down and we haven’t had another issue since.

I’m working for a company that has just lost its major customer; 60% of the work disappeared over the weekend. Some big fraud case shut them down with no notice.

A plea goes out from the management team to cut costs, only do overtime where absolutely necessary, and don’t order anything you don’t need. Anything and everything helps to save jobs. It’s going to be a difficult few months. They have some customers lined up but it will take time to get things sorted.

A lot changes in those following weeks. The factory is a lot quieter, we lose a lot of familiar faces that are working part-time or from agencies, things that were going to be replaced are hastily repaired, and morale is low. But most people keep their jobs.

Most seem to be on board, but some, like [Employee], only seem to care about themselves and have no grasp on why they should change.

The following Monday after that announcement:

Employee: “I noticed the overtime sheet wasn’t up.”

Me: “Yes, there is no overtime.”

Employee: “I’m not being funny, but shouldn’t you put that up and tell us that? Because I would have asked [Other Department] if I could work there.”

Me: “There is no overtime here, there, or anywhere at the moment. Once that changes, I will let you know.”

Employee: “Oh? Okay, then. The coffee machine is out of milk again.”

Me: “Have you rung the number that is stuck to the machine?”

Employee: “Well, no, but I thought if you had time…”

Me: “I’m trying to do two jobs, and at the moment, you have no work tickets. And it will probably be the same for most of the week.”

Employee: “But it’s not my job!”

Me: “And it’s mine? No, it’s not. Just do something, clean, help the guys on the line. H***, you can help me if you like!”

Employee: “I think I have some stuff to do over here.”

He sat on his phone most of the week, refused to help anyone with anything that wasn’t “his job,” and complained repeatedly about any minor inconvenience. The whole time, the company was struggling to keep its doors open.

[Employee] was “shocked” when the company decided that they couldn’t afford to keep the doors open as current efforts weren’t working. He, of course, blamed everyone apart from himself and complained on social media about how much work companies are expecting employees to do.

Apparently, he couldn’t find a job that didn’t let him sit on his phone all day.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], you’re into gardening. There’s a bush with purple berries in my garden. Do you think you could help me identify them?”

Coworker: “Absolutely. Bring some in.”

The next week, I do so.

Me: “Here’s a bag of those berries I mentioned. Let me know what you think they are.”

Later that day:

Me: “Oh, hello, did you get a chance to look at those berries?”

Coworker: “Yes. I think they’re either blackcurrant or deadly nightshade. Now please excuse me while I go wash my hands.”

My father has two younger siblings: a brother and a sister. They, and especially my uncle’s family, are selfish, entitled, and greedy. I could tell lots of stories.

As I can’t find a job, let alone one that lets me live on my own, I’ve been living with my parents and working at my dad’s company off and on for over a decade. Despite not wanting the entire family working for him, he hired my aunt last year. I tried to tell him it would be a disaster and it has been — mostly for me, since I handle the admin.

Our first professional communication is almost two weeks after my aunt is hired when she calls about her tax forms, etc. With hardly a hello, she launches in.

Aunt: “This must be a [Past President] thing! I can’t believe I have to fill out all these forms! “

Me: “They’ve been like this since I was in college; everyone has to fill them out.”

Aunt: “I don’t want to! They don’t need to know my address!”

Me: “They already do.”

On and on she goes.

Almost a month after she is hired, and after weeks of reminding her to fill out her health insurance forms, I get another call.

Aunt: “I don’t want them to know my social security number!”

Me: “They need it to process your application. You had to give it to them for the insurance you had before.”

Aunt: “They shouldn’t have it! It’s none of their business!”

Me: “Then you can talk to them. My talking to them won’t do any good, since it’s your application.”

Aunt: “I don’t have time for that. I’m too busy!”

Me: “Then it won’t get processed. I can’t do anything about it.”

This continues for a good half an hour. Finally:

Aunt: “How are you going to send it?”

Me: “Email or fax.”

Aunt: “I don’t want you to do that! Anybody could read it!”

Me: “They have a mailing address. Would you prefer that?”

Aunt: “No.”

Me: “Then what do you want me to do?”

Aunt: “I don’t know! Just fax it in!”

I remind her every day for weeks via chat — her family never answers the phone — to fill out and sign the form so I can send it in. Finally:

Aunt: “Oh, you wanted me to fill these out?”

Me: “Yes, I’ve been reminding you for weeks.”

Aunt: “I didn’t see your messages.”

Me: “You replied to a few of them.”

She eventually does it, but as it’s been over a month since her hire date, they won’t take her. We file an appeal, which I tell Dad no other company would do and it’s a waste of my time. And even if they did, without her SSN, they won’t process the application. She refuses to talk to them, so I waste more time. Ultimately, she doesn’t have insurance for months.

Tax time rolls around a few months later. She has a six-figure salary while Dad hasn’t had a salary since starting the company because we never make enough. I only work part-time and earn not quite twice minimum wage.

Aunt: “I can’t believe how much tax I’m paying!”

Me: “You’re earning six figures.”

Aunt: “But the taxes are so high!”

Me: “You have this salary, plus an IRA from this job and your old job.”

Aunt: “But I pay so much in taxes!”

Me: “You pay twice in taxes than I earn, never mind what you get to take home.”

Aunt: “I never got any alimony in the divorce and I need retirement money.”

I try futilely to explain that this is not the sort of thing you should tell your HR and to shut up. She keeps going. I lose it.

Me: “Between your IRA and salary, you’re still taking home six to seven times minimum wage. You have more in your IRAs combined than anyone making minimum wage would in their lifetime. I won’t ever see even half your salary.”

Aunt: “But the taxes!”

I could go on and on. She’s been working with us for a year and a half. She has never turned in her timesheets on time and they are now months late. Dad reminds her daily to turn them in but otherwise does nothing, despite my pointing out how unprofessional and against company policy her behaviour is. She still gets paid her full salary. And he even gets mad at me for pointing all this out. Guess it’s not my problem when we can’t file taxes on time.