(My boss, a person with a Master’s degree, is writing an article for a professional publication, and despite the fact that I am just the receptionist, he asks me to proofread it for him because his assistant has the day off. It’s a good article about something I agree with, so I’m happy to help out with making sure it’s right. I find a problem almost immediately.)

Me: “I don’t think you meant to say ‘bereft’ in this sentence. Is there a word you would prefer in this spot?”

Boss: “Yes, I did! I said it’s bereft with dishonest people, as in there are too many of them! Don’t tell me what I mean.”

Me: “Okay…”

(I don’t really know what to say because he’s wrong, but he’s also yelling, and he isn’t known for changing his mind or listening to reason.)

Boss: *looks at the article, then back at me* “Why? What does ‘bereft’ mean?”

Me: *taken aback* “It means deprived or lacking, so the sentence actually says that we’re lacking dishonest people.”

Boss: “Oh. Well, that’s not what I mean at all. I mean there’s too many of them.”

Me: “So… we’re rife with dishonest people.”

Boss: “Yes… change it to that.”

(He went into his office and told Siri to define “rife.”)

(Every summer I work a series of festivals that my mother’s friend organizes. I am only fifteen, but because of my people skills I am tasked with a lot of face time with our clients, and I supervise a team of about 15 employees. One day we are having a horrible storm, including violent winds, and I’m going around helping people secure their tents.)

Me: “Excuse me, can I help you secure any of your merchandise?”

Vendor: “I’d prefer it if you didn’t touch any of my art.”

(I note that she seems to be selling blown glass in a minimally-secured tent.)

Me: “Are you sure, ma’am? These winds are quite strong.”

Vendor: “I’ll be fine; I’m sure.”

(The next day I’m checking out the vendors. I reach the same woman and I notice her tent is gone and she is selling a much smaller quantity of pieces off a table.)

Me: “Hello, how are you this morning?”

Vendor: “Horrible! All of my merchandise was destroyed yesterday when my tent blew over, and not a single one of you or your coworkers offered to help me!”

(I am not surprised that this happened, but I am surprised to hear none of my staff helped her, even though it is not their job.)

Me: “Well, I’m shocked none of my staff assisted you, and I apologize.”

(I heard later that not only had three of my staff attempted to assist her, my supervisor and one of the festival sponsors tried to help. She shrieked at every single one of them for “touching her art,” and she even emailed my mother’s friend to complain. We all just laughed at her apparent stupidity.)

(It’s Saturday, which means that we have a $5-off coupon for any purchase over $25. A couple comes up to my register and we strike up a conversation about travelling and Las Vegas.)

Me: *finishes ringing the couple up* “That’ll be [amount around $110].”

Customer: *pays and continues to chatter about Las Vegas*

Me: “Would you like your receipt?”

Customer: “Oh! I forgot my $5 coupon!”

Me: *slightly nervous, because I’ve always ended up panicking in scenarios like this* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do the coupon now, since the transaction has been finished.”

Customer: “No, you can’t do that! I forgot to use my coupon and I want to use it!”

Me: “Ma’am, you can’t use it now that the transaction has been finished.”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager!” *smiling, but very agitated*

Manager: *hurries over and asks the customer what’s wrong, the customer repeats the exact same thing to her* “I’m sorry ma’am, but we’d have to return your entire purchase just to use it.”

Customer: “Fine, then let’s return everything!”

Manager: *speechless*

(At this point a line is forming, and we only have two working registers, with only one cashier. The customer continues to go on about wanting to return her entire purchase, but a man in line chimes in.)

Man: “Lady, just give me the coupon and I will give you the five dollars. If it’s really that big of a deal, I will give you the five dollars!”

Customer: *gets mad and leaves with a huff*

(This occurs when I am 19 years old, and in the hospital giving birth. I am a fairly tiny person, my baby is pretty huge, and I’m in my 23rd hour of labor, so you can see how I might be stressed out. The first time I let out a pained scream…)

Nurse: *disgustedly* “You know the screaming doesn’t actually help, right?”

(My mom and boyfriend gawk at her.)

Boyfriend: “Are you kidding? Did you seriously just say that?”

Nurse: *defensively* “Look, I’m just saying that it’s 3:00 am; people are trying to sleep. She’s being really loud.”

Mom: “GET THE F*** OUT OF HERE!”

(She huffed and walked out of the room without a word, leaving another nurse to scramble in to help. I saw her a few more times during my stay, and thankfully she kept her mouth shut.)

(I’m 15 years old and a sophomore. Recently, I took a couple of days off school due to a nasty sinus infection. Before she drops me off, my mom gives me my doctor’s note and I head inside. A couple of hours later, I get called into the office of one of the three assistant principals.)

Assistant Principal: “So, [My Name], did you know we call the doctor’s office to verify sick notes?”

Me: “Um, I guess?”

Assistant Principal: “Since you have a clean record, you’ll only get one day of lunch detention if you confess.”

Me: “Huh? Confess to what?”

Assistant Principal: *gets a creepy smile on his face and calls for the receptionist* “You changed the dates on your note.”

Me: “What?! No I didn’t. I only got it from my mom when she dropped me off! I didn’t have time to do that.”

(The receptionist comes in and says the office only confirmed one day of my absence, not the three I needed. They go back and forth accusing me and telling me I’ll get a week’s lunch detention for lying. Finally, in tears, I take out my cell phone and get them to call my mom at work.)

Assistant Principal: “Hello, Mrs. [Last Name]. This is your daughter’s principal at [School]. She’s hysterical and wanted us to call you because the dates on her doctor’s note were changed. She says she didn’t do it, but…”

(There’s a long pause and his smile slowly fades away. He looks between me and the receptionist.)

Assistant Principal: “W-well, yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Yes, ma’am, I will. But just for future reference, you can’t do th—”

(He pauses again and gives me back my phone.)

Assistant Principal: “So, your mother says she changed the note. Just tell her she can’t do that next time.”

(They got rid of the detention notice on my records and sent me on my way. I get having to punish kids who do mess up, but maybe don’t look like you’re enjoying it so much?)