I’m having a coffee in a mostly empty ice cream shop when I need to use the restroom. A woman is leaning against the wall next to the restroom door, doing something on her phone. I don’t want to try the door in case she was waiting for it, so I approach her.

Me: “Excuse me, but are you in line for the restroom?”

Woman: “I don’t work here.”

Me: *Genuinely confused* “I didn’t ask if you worked here. I’m asking if you’re wai—”

Woman: “I SAID I DON’T WORK HERE!”

With that, she stormed off, so I tried the restroom door. It was vacant.

I used to be responsible for creating and distributing my company’s annual tactical and strategic plan every autumn. This looked out five years and described how much manufacturing would occur and how much product would be shipped out in detail. The results were sent out to departments — mainly two — that would use this data to create plans for their own areas. The results consisted of a few dozen three-dimensional data matrices and two three-inch-thick loose-leaf notebooks full of computer printouts.

Occasionally, other groups might require some of this data. They would tell me what selective information they needed, and I would readily provide it.

On rare occasions, I would get a call from someone I did not know. Now, while my job involved my disbursing this data (and I would gladly give the information asked for), I would not give it out without knowing who they are and what the data would be used for. I could always tell when someone was clueless about the data and what to do with it.

Caller: “Hello, I would like the Fall Plan.”

Me: “You would like the Fall Plan?”

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, did you want the manufacturing plan or the shipment plan?”

Caller: “Ummmmmm…”

Me: “Did you want both three-inch binders of printouts?”

Caller: *Pauses* “I’ll call you back.”

They never did.

Since they had no idea what they were asking for, my guess was they just wanted some prestige — “I have the plan!” If they really had a need, they would have called back asking for the exact information they required.

I never asked if they wanted the three-dimensional matrices. I figured the sound of their heads exploding would have hurt my ears.

My company hires from all over the world and requires travel almost constantly. We also offer “home time off,” which is exactly how it sounds; it is in our hiring contract that we can take a four-day weekend every other month to go home to see our families.

I receive a job assignment in a different country, so my contract states that I get a full week off to accommodate the longer travel time. I get tired of going back and forth, so I ask my supervisor if I have to go home during this time off or if I can use it to tour US attractions like Disney or just relax and rest for the week. He agrees that the time off is my own and if that’s what I want to do, I just have to arrange the appropriate travel.

For my next home time off, I decide to take a five-day cruise with my husband. Upon return, I have a slew of emails, voicemails, and texts from [Coworker], who is from the USA. I go through them all and I am just floored. [Coworker] heard (though he didn’t say how) that I was not using my home time to go home, and he threatened to report me to Human Resources for abusing my privilege.

When I return to work the next day, he is sitting at my desk.

Me: “Good morning, [Coworker].”

Coworker: “How was your trip home?”

Me: “Oh, we—”

Coworker: “Or should I say, ‘How does it feel to steal from [Company]?’”

Me: “I didn’t steal anything. I—”

Coworker: “It is in our contract that we have to go home for that time off, not go globetrotting.”

Me: “Not my contract. Please move. I have work to do.”

Coworker: “You might as well write your resignation letter. Once HR finds out what you did, they’ll send you right back to your dirty, third-world country you didn’t want to go to in the first place.”

Me: “Okay, then. You go do that. Just get out of my space. Please and thank you, goodbye!”

[Coworker] did go to HR to complain that I hadn’t gone home. When questioned about why it mattered to him, he said that he had tried to extend his home time off to go to Australia for two weeks and it was denied. By his logic, my request should have been denied, too.

After that, I put in a complaint with HR, showing all the texts, emails, and voicemails from [Coworker] when he knew I was on vacation, as well as his insult to my home country. He was suspended for a performance review and quit before they could finish.

I work in tech support. I’m called in on a consult because the company’s internal programs aren’t working. I look at the input and notice they keep entering a dash.

Me: “You know this input cannot handle special characters.”

Client: “It’s not special. I use it all the time.”

A very friendly woman has just paid for her $18 concession order with a crisp, brand-new $20 bill. About ten minutes later, she storms up to me, absolutely furious.

Customer: “Give me my $20 right now!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “I’m missing a $20 bill from my wallet! I must have given it to you! Give me $20 out of your register RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “I apologize if I didn’t give you the proper change back. Unfortunately, I can’t just give you $20 out of my register and risk being short $20 at the end of the night. But if you’d like, I can have a manager come out and check the sales on my register and the cash in my drawer. If you did accidentally give me an extra $20 bill, it should show up as a discrepancy and I’ll be able to return it to you immediately. It’s been a very slow day, so it shouldn’t take more than five minutes for them to check. If you want to give me your seat number, I can even come find you and let you know if we have your $20, and return it if that’s the case.”

Customer: “That’s not good enough! I want $20 right this instant!”

Me: “Again, ma’am, I cannot just simply give you $20 from my register and risk being short $20 at the end of the night just because you asked me to. But I can have a manager come out, check the register, and resolve the situation.”

Customer: *Bellowing* “I WANT MY $20!”

The screaming alerts my managers, who come out and try to address the woman.

Customer: *Pointing to me* “I want that f****** thief fired! He stole $20 from me! He probably pocketed it!”

Figuring it might defuse the situation, I pull out my pockets and then open my wallet in front of the woman at her insistence. Thank God I only have about $5 in singles in there. Regardless, she continues to scream that I’m a thief until the managers threaten to have her kicked out for causing a scene. We finally calm down the woman, and my manager counts my drawer as I suggested in the first place.

Manager: “Ma’am, there is an extra $20 on record in this register…”

Customer: “I knew it!”

Manager: “But I think we’ve found the problem. Did you just go to the bank?”

Customer: “Um… yes?”

Manager: “Did they give you new $20 bills?”

Customer: “Yes?”

My manager holds up what looks like a single, crisp, brand-new $20 bill. He then rubs his fingers against it, and the bill splits into two $20s.

Manager: “Yeah, right here. There are two brand-new $20s. They looked like one because they were perfectly stuck together. You probably grabbed it thinking it was one $20, and my cashier didn’t notice it, either. Here’s your $20.”

He hands the extra $20 to the customer.

Customer: “Um… thanks. That makes sense, I guess.”

She immediately turns and looks at me with a sour face.

Customer: “I still think you were trying to steal it, you little thief! You should be fired and arrested!”

She finally turned and walked toward her theater.