The company where I work produces very complex machines. In a particular variant which was newly produced at the time, they took a team of about ten engineers around three or four months to be installed and set up, making it more of a work of craftsmanship than something industrial.

Comes on stage Winston (fictional name). As the Winston Wolf in Pulp Fiction, he was a problem solver. He was able, by some sort of black art, to install and set up a machine alone in record time. Being, as I said, a form of craftmanship, Winston was very valued and in high demand, flying around the world to help speed up problematic installations.

Our company policy allows employees to take up to one year of sabbatical leave, and Winston with his business trips had gathered enough frequent flyer points and missed family time that he could use that year to enjoy some personal time without worrying much about the missed income. So, he asked his manager for approval for the one-year sabbatical.

Upon hearing the request, [Manager] went, of course, into panic mode:

Manager: “I cannot approve this leave; we can’t afford to install machines without your support.”

Winston, as his namesake, didn’t flinch.

Winston: “I am not asking permission. I am giving you a choice between 1) you find a way to manage one year of installations without my support, and I will be back at the end of it; 2) you find a way to manage a lifelong of installations without my support because if I am not approved this sabbatical, I am quitting.”

[Manager] asked for some time to reflect, and then approved the sabbatical on the condition that Winston could be called in if dire needs applied.

So, for one year, our travel office had to book a few times some business travels starting from unusual locations. Whenever they tried to object that [Place X] was not one of our offices, high management would quickly shut them down and approve the exception to the travel policy.

The company where I was working when this happened installed photovoltaic plants for private users. At a certain moment in time, the laws were changed, and we were requested to notify the municipality where the installation was taking place about it. It was just a notification, no permission or approval needed.

Of course, being a newly changed law, we all were wary of possible problems and made sure to check everything properly before sending the paperwork, and as long as we worked with small towns or villages, everything went fine.

Until a customer living in the major city of our region bought a plant from us. Since I was due in [major city] for other business, I decided to go in person and also deliver the paperwork for [customer]’s plant. I queue at the office and as soon as I present the paperwork to the young front office employee, he quickly scans it and tells me, “these must be checked by him”, pointing to a senior employee whose sight immediately makes my Vogon detecting senses tingle.

I queue again for [Vogon] and present him with my paperwork. He takes them like he is handling a piece of soiled toilet paper, scans a couple of pages, and tells me, “This is not complete, you need to add also a 3D rendering of the building with the plant,” and hands my paperwork back.

Now, I have done my due diligence and read the municipality building code before preparing the paperwork, and nowhere does it mention that photovoltaic plants need a 3D rendering of any sort. But I am wise enough to know that arguing with [Vogon] is just going to be a waste of time and an unnecessary strain to my blood pressure, so I head back to the office.

Once there, my supervisor asks me how it went, and I relay the story, adding that I also know how to switch off [Vogon]’s power trip. There is a law in Italy that makes clear that for certain acts where the public administration is required to provide an answer, if the answer is not given within a certain time, it is fair to assume that the PA is not opposing the act.

So, I put the paperwork in a mail envelope, sent a registered mail to [Vogon]’s office, and waited to see if [Vogon] would put in writing a request conflicting with his own code. Guess what? No reply came within the time stated by the law, and we could carry out our installation.

I’m a new hire, learning the ropes in production. Management wanted us to start tracking how much material we were wasting, so we had to measure leftover lengths and enter the numbers for review. My boss was demonstrating how to calculate it.

Boss: *Tapping away at the calculator.* “So, for this one, it’s twelve feet, nine inches, so we’ll just type in… twelve point nine…”

Me: “Uh… you can’t just put inches in as decimals. Nine inches isn’t point nine feet.”

Boss: *Shrugs.* “Well, I don’t have the formula memorized.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t know the conversion, it was watching him type twelve and then freeze like his brain had hit a blue screen, before just, YOLO-ing “point-nine” in anyway. That’s when I realized: I do not want to work under this guy.

He was a machinist. 

Last I heard, he got promoted.

I work as a supervisor at a manufacturing plant, and I was hired for an eight-hour shift as the nighttime supervisor. As soon as I started, they changed and said they really considered the shift to be from 11 PM to 7:30 AM, so they would need it to be 8½ hours. I’m salaried, there wasn’t much I could do, and it wasn’t a big deal, so I said okay.

As I get into a groove working there, I find out that the 2nd shift supervisor is a train wreck. No one would describe him to me, just saying I had to meet him. He leaves an hour or two early from his shift two to three times a week. Friday nights, he leaves the plant at 5:30 PM and tells them to call him if there are any problems. He calls out, at a minimum, once a week. It’s psychotic.

Every time he is out, I come in at around 8 PM to cover the last three hours of his shift and my full shift. At least once a week, I just do it. I figure the company is going to deal with it, but as time passes, they obviously aren’t. Structurally, the company is just as bad as him. Infighting, rivalries, backstabbing, all of that, but I stay on nights, so I don’t see it much.

Then Sarah starts as my boss. I actually have two bosses, which is how every successful employee works.

Sarah is a nightmare. Sarah wants me to work 11 PM to 11 AM on Monday to Thursday, and 11 PM to 10 AM on Friday. I dig in my heels, document like crazy, and after a couple of months of harassment, HR actually backs me up, and she has to stop.

But now Sarah is angry. She sees me leaving at 7:15 AM after coming in two hours early. She sends an email clarifying our time expectations. 2nd shift train wreck calls in that night, so I come in at 8 PM, and the next morning, Sarah sees me leave at 7:10 AM.

I get an email saying she is coming in early to talk to me, and when she shows up, I’m getting a formal warning for my early departures, going into my personnel file. I’ve never been written up in my life.

During the meeting, with HR in attendance, she said I am expected to be there for my 8½ hour shift. I made sure that the expectation was on record for an 8½ hour shift, which HR documented.

The next week, the 2nd shift supervisor is out for two days. After the first day, Sarah asks me the next morning why I didn’t come in early, as there were problems on his shift, and I said I fulfilled my 8½ shift, and I’m not responsible for his.

They had to hire a contractor at $125 an hour to cover all of his missed time, which amounted to nineteen weeks this past year. Eventually, they hired a fourth supervisor at $85k per year to cover his gaps.

Sarah got demoted, and I only ever work 8½ hours.

I build computer servers for a living. If you don’t know, computer servers are large metal cabinets that house the electronics used to run a network. My coworker had been tasked with inspecting the cabinet for any damage before it was sent to me to begin installing parts. He had his back to the cabinet, filling out the inspection sheet. He starts turning to actually inspect it when, all of a sudden, he throws a punch, striking the metal.

Me: *Dumbfounded.* “Uh, [Coworker]? Why did you just punch the server cabinet?”

Coworker: *Somewhat sheepishly.* “I, uh, thought someone was sneaking up behind me.”

This cabinet was a newer one, which means the metal was extremely shiny. The person my coworker thought was sneaking up behind him? His own reflection. Luckily, he didn’t hit hard enough to damage his hand or the cabinet.

CORRECTION: The story as originally submitted included the name of the coworker in the dialogue, but retained ‘Coworker’ as the speaker title. This name has been removed for consistency.