From 2004 to 2007, I worked for a popular department store as a sales associate. I liked the job, but the raises were terrible; I got a total of eighteen cents altogether during my time there. Management was bad.

I worked thirty-six to forty hours every week up until mid-2007. The company decided to cut back hours, and now most people were only working twenty to twenty-five hours a week unless they were in management or Human Resources.

I was living paycheck to paycheck and I had two small kids. I was looking for another job.

A month after our hours were cut, the assistant manager had a morning meeting. In this meeting, she spoke of how our store had teamed up with a local charity organization. She went on and on about the company, how great they were, etc. She gave everyone pamphlets on the organization and said she had promised them that she would get 100% employee participation in pledging money to their organization.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it and thought nothing more about it.

At the next meeting we had a week later, [Assistant Manager] was upset.

Assistant Manager: “I didn’t have many people turn in the pledge forms. I need everyone to participate. I will give you all until Friday to turn your pledge in.”

Well, since the money that we pledged would be taken out of our check, I decided again that I simply couldn’t do it.

The next week, [Assistant Manager] held another meeting, and these pledge forms were once again the topic.

Assistant Manager: “I am very disappointed with the ones who still haven’t turned in the forms. I will speak to each one of you individually.”

A few hours later, she came by my department and wanted to know if I was going to pledge. I told her no, I couldn’t afford it. She said to think about it anyway.

I wasn’t going to change my mind.

The next week, [Assistant Manager] had yet another meeting, and it was the same thing. Apparently, only 15% of the employees had decided to contribute. [Assistant Manager] said she would start calling everyone into her office who hadn’t contributed.

Yes, she called me to her office, and she berated me for not contributing to this worthy cause.

Assistant Manager: “Why do you refuse to pledge?”

Me: “[Assistant Manager], do you have a pen and paper? I will show you why.”

[Assistant Manager] handed me a pen and a paper, and I jotted down a number.

Me: “Since my hours have been cut down, this is what I bring home.”

I showed her the number. Then, I wrote down a few more figures.

Me: “This is how much my rent, utilities, car insurance, cell phone bill, and groceries are each month.”

I showed her the paper.

Me: “I bring home $730 a month and my bills are $735 a month. Please tell me how I can afford to pledge.”

[Assistant Manager] looked at my list.

Assistant Manager: “Well, maybe get rid of the cell phone bill.”

Me: “No, I already canceled cable when my hours were cut. I need the phone in case anything happens to anyone in my family.”

Assistant Manager: “You should still try to donate a few dollars.”

I stood up and left.

[Assistant Manager] didn’t bother me anymore, and thankfully, a couple of weeks later, I got another job that paid much better and was full-time.

I am working my first job at a little BBQ place with a drive-thru. Today is my day off, but my manager calls me at 8:30 am, thirty minutes before we open.

Manager: “I don’t feel good. I need you to open.”

I rush in and end up working all day. Five pm rolls around, and my manager comes in with the owner of the business, who she’s dating. They were at the fair all day and completely forgot they lied to me about her being sick.

Me: *Biting my tongue* “Can I go home?”

Manager: “No, we need you to work until close.”

Closing is 9:00 pm.

At 9:00 pm, I take my shirt off and hand them my keys.

Me: “Today was my last day.”

I walked out the door shirtless.

When I got home, my dad was angry that I had quit my job. I told him what they did and said I wasn’t making enough money. He looked at my pay stubs and saw they hadn’t been paying me overtime for the entire time I worked there! He made me go back in and demand my overtime pay. When I came in with the pay stubs, the manager gave me cash out of the register to cover my overtime and then some.

They called me the next day making sure I wasn’t going to report them to the BBB. I didn’t…

…but my dad did.

About a year ago, I managed to get out of a particularly stressful renting situation.

My housemate, while friendly, was piss-poor with managing his share of rent payments. To say we were constantly in arrears because of him is an understatement.

One month after I left, my father received a phone call from my former housemate’s parents. They wanted to know why I wasn’t paying his rent anymore despite the fact that I had moved out.

Yes, they wanted me to continue paying his rent.

My dad just hung up on them.

To this day, I still avoid my former housemate if possible, and I’m happily housemate- and (mostly) stress-free!

I went to the mall with my sister. We stopped at the food court for lunch and decided to go to a new place with a small kiosk. We each picked a premade sandwich with a $5 sticker on it, and we got two $2 water bottles. 

Cashier: “Hi there. Is this all together?”

Me: “Yes.”

Cashier: “Okay.”

She punched the amounts in by hand since there were no barcodes.

Cashier: “And your total is $21.20.”

Me: “Sorry? Two sandwiches and two waters? I counted about $15 with tax.”

Cashier: “No. Two $7 sandwiches and two $3 bottles of water — that’s $20, plus 6% tax.”

Me: *Holding up the sandwiches* “They’re $5 sandwiches, and the sign on the cooler says waters are $2.”

Cashier: “Someone must have labeled them wrong.”

Me: “Okay, well, can you fix it? Or can we talk to someone?”

Cashier: “That’s your total. I’m not changing it, and I’m not wasting the manager’s time. Do you want it or not?”

My sister and I walked away without another word.

I went online that evening and found the place online. I found several reviews saying they had experienced the same thing. Every review pointing out these shady practices had a snarky reply from someone claiming to be the owner, basically blaming the customer for an attitude, accusing them of switching stickers, or something else.

I went back about three months after that and saw that the kiosk was empty. I guess sometimes shady businesses get what they deserve.

Back in the late 1980s, I worked in, um, not the best part of town. People would try to pay with checks that would bounce and stolen cards, so the owner put up a sign.

Sign: “IN GOD WE TRUST — ALL OTHERS PAY CASH.”

And he meant it; the only payment type we would take was cash. 

One day, I’m making the sandwiches and the owner is running the register. A guy comes in and sees the sign.

Customer: “Does that mean you trust me?”

He showed us his ID, and yes, his parents actually had named him “God”. 

He paid with cash.