I’m female. When I was a teenager, I joined a non-profit organization that my dad belonged to. We were having our regular meeting at a house. After the meeting, we had food. Our hosts had laid out a nice salad bar on the kitchen table. Next to the table, two older male members of the group were deep in conversation. I grabbed a paper plate and leaned close to the men to get to some of the salad fixings. 

Still talking, without even looking at me, [Man] grabbed my plate and started loading ingredients onto it. He never once addressed me or asked me what I wanted on my salad. 

I was about eighteen at the time and not very confrontational, so I just got another plate and fixed the salad I wanted. As I left the kitchen, I saw that he’d launched back into his conversation, seemingly oblivious that I was leaving or that he was still holding a plate of salad. The other man, who was a bit more aware of things, looked as bewildered as I felt. 

Half an hour later, [Man] came looking for me. 

Man: “Hey, isn’t this your salad?”

Me: “Um, no. It was, but then you took it and started putting your own toppings on it. I just started over and got the toppings I wanted. Go ahead and eat it, if you want.”

He looked so confused.

Fast forward to another meeting at the same house. Again, [Man] was in deep conversation with someone else, this time near the kitchen sink. I stepped up next to them to pour myself some tap water. Without pausing for breath or even looking at me, he grabbed the cup out of my hands and kept on talking.

Me: “Um, excuse me? That’s my cup there. If you need one yourself, you can get it over on the table.”

[Man] looked blankly at me, but at least he was actually looking. I took the cup out of his hand.

Fast forward again to another meeting. This one ended with cake. I was asked to cut slices, so I picked up the knife to start. Here came [Man] sidling up to me, talking to someone else over his shoulder while reaching out to grab the knife out of my hands. This time, I held on tightly. There were kids (whom I often babysat) running around, and I was not about to let him wrench a knife out of my grip — possibly injuring me and others in the process.

Me: “[Man]! What are you doing?”

He stopped talking and looked at me, surprised.

Me: “You do not take knives out of people’s hands like that! That is dangerous! If you want something, you ask for it! You don’t just grab it!”

He again looked blank. 

Me: “Do you want a piece of cake?”

Man: “Yes?”

I spoke sternly, as if he was one of the kids.

Me: “Then go sit down and wait.”

He sat down and waited. He got his piece last. And he never gave me trouble again.

I was hired to do branding and a website for a non-profit. We worked together for over two months, and the client loved everything I did and was thrilled all along the way. Unfortunately, she was a bit indecisive, so it took a lot longer than expected because I kept having to make and revert changes for her. 

Me: “Just to let you know, we’re getting pretty close to my hour cap for this project. I’m more than willing to do the work, but once we go over that, I will have to start charging you additionally by the hour.”

Client: “That’s no problem! Do what you have to.”

I reminded her of this several times, and I let her know what kind of hours I was putting in. She gave the okay every time.

Client: “It’s incredible! Thank you so much! We really love everything you’ve done, and we are so excited.”

She even cried at how much she loved it. 

Then, I sent her the bill.

Client: “Please send me the final files ASAP. Also, I’m really sorry, but I am not going to be able to pay you the extra $1,000 that I owe you.”

Me: “I cannot send the final files until you pay your bill.”

Client: “I am not happy with the final branding and would like all my money back.”

The best part? I am a female designer, and this is a non-profit whose mission is to help women who have been taken advantage of.

I work for a non-profit. We accept donations of stuff and then turn around and sell them. A lot of people use us to throw out garbage that they have too much sentimental attachment to to put in the trash themselves.

One day, we get a tin lunchbox. The outside is in pretty good shape, and tin lunchboxes can be pretty valuable as a collectible. But corporate doesn’t really care about “value as a collectible”, and the inside is full of green fuzzy mold growing off of the slimy remains of peaches and other fruit crammed inside. Not sanitary. Probably doomed to be thrown out.

One of my coworkers, who has a stronger stomach than I, decides to dig through it and manages to find a mold-encrusted $20 bill in the lunch box. I repeatedly comment about how gross it is, and how he’d better not bring that bill to my checkout line, but his response is, “Twenty dollars is twenty dollars.”

He decides to take that $20 bill shopping. To buy stuff from our charity stop. To f*** with me he brings out the moldy bill at my checkout line, still covered with gunk and not even rinsed.

I flatly refuse to accept the bill. He calls for a manager and demands that the manager let him pay with the moldy bill.

Our manager (who knows both of us) lets him pay with the moldy bill and puts it in the register that I’m tending against my protests. It contaminates the other bills touching it. At the end of the shift, I refuse to count out my drawer, due to the presence of the biohazard bill.

I get an official write-up from the manager for “engaging in conflict with my coworker” and for refusing to count my drawer. Rather than sign the resulting write-up, I quit.

Around Christmas, there are a lot of entitled parents, but I had one a month ago at my work that really threw me off.

I work for a non-profit that has a toy donation with many other organizations that donate a ton of gifts for kids of all ages. We also have a thing where parents can put things they need, too, like clothes, cleaning supplies, and kitchenware if needed, and if anyone wants to supply those, they can.

A guy comes in and gets the stuff for the children that he put down on the sheet. I am the admin, so I know who is picking up items, and once I get his name, I retrieve his items. He gets the bags and makes his way out to his vehicle.

However, after five minutes he comes back in and comes up to my desk.

Guy: “So, uh, where is the rest of it?”

Me: “Pardon?”

Guy: “You know the stuff for me and my girlfriend?”

His girlfriend is the kids’ mother.

I am confused, so I look in the back and, sure enough, that is all of it. I then check his application; it only has the four small children on there, and no adults on the list of what they want.

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but unfortunately, you did not put the adults down on this application; thus, we have nothing for you.”

Guy: “What?! Come on! We need something, too!”

He is grumbling and moaning about how he needs something for Christmas and how he thought we gave gifts for the whole family.

Me: “Sir, give me one second, and I will ask my boss what we have.”

I then go to the back to talk to my boss, who happens to be with the organization leader, and I tell them what happened.

Leader: “Is he still here?”

Me: “Yes?”

Leader: “No worries. I’ll take care of him.”

[Leader] and I walk back, and [Leader] goes to speak with him. [Leader] takes him outside and chats with him for about ten minutes before he huffs away and leaves without a thank-you.

Me: “Well, what happened?”

Leader: “Oh, boy, what a real piece of work.”

[Leader] then told me that this grown man was upset that he got nothing from us and that we only focused on the children at our organization. And guess what he was wanting?

A freaking PlayStation 5!

Yes, because a non-profit gets $500 PlayStation 5s donated to us. If we did, they would go to teens, not adults who can make money and get them themselves.

And if you thought that was it, oh, you would be surprised. The guy also asked [Leader] for us to call him and let him know if we had anything left over after the Christmas season, so he and his family could sell it for money!

Well, guess what, [Guy]? All of those gifts left over go to future events and to families who aren’t as stingy as you.

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I used to volunteer with a local help-the-needy program to provide gifts for low-income kids in my county during the holidays. The city to the south of us begged for donations, claiming they served our area, but if anyone from our county actually went to them for help, they’d be told to get the f*** out. They wanted our money but refused to lift a finger to help us. So, locals started up our own program to help ourselves.

My mom used to work for the non-profit that ran the program. She was on the board at one point, so I got dragged along. Luckily, I actually like volunteer work when it’s for a good cause.

There’d be so many donations, both toys and money, and some people became “sponsors” who’d get all the gifts for a family. (Sponsored families tended to get better stuff. The guy who ran it always tried to get as many sponsors as possible.) Families had to apply and be screened to make sure no scammers snuck in, a fact which made people more likely to donate to the program because they wanted to help locals who really needed it.

Volunteers got the lists and then packed a certain number of toys into a bag per kid based on those lists and what was available. We always did our best to include stuff the kids would like. The guardians would be called in to pick up their bag of goodies. They’d be allowed to “shop” for a few extra items per child, depending on what was left. This let the parents/guardians add a personal touch.

So. Many. Times. The parents/guardians would be teary-eyed and on a “thank you, thank you, thank you” loop as they picked up their bags of goodies. Even during the lean years when donations were low, the people being helped were so freakin’ grateful. It was… rewarding but also heartbreaking. For many families, our little bags of donated goodies were the only thing the kids would be getting for Christmas.

I remember one woman who showed up and was presented with two used-but-still-good bicycles. She burst into full-out waterworks. Bicycles were a premium item often asked for but rarely available, so this was a huge deal. She didn’t care that they weren’t new. She was just so ecstatic that her kids were gonna get something they desperately wanted for Christmas.

There was another time I heard about where the parent showed up to find a very tall stand-alone basketball hoop, which their kid had been begging for but was way out of the family’s budget. It was an expensive item, so the parent hadn’t expected to actually get one. The local sheriff’s deputies delivered the hoop to the house and set it up for the kid to discover later. (Deputies would deliver any gift bags that weren’t picked up by the deadline. They loved doing these Happy House Calls.)

I have fond memories of volunteering with that help-the-needy program. There were a couple of a**holes among the parents, but the vast majority were so very thrilled and grateful for whatever they got. (We remembered who the a**holes were. We did not go out of our way for them.)

The program also included putting together special goodie bags for the homeless and group home kids, which included basic necessities as well as toys and shinies. People donated as individuals and as groups, like churches, school clubs, businesses, etc. It’s helped so many people over the years. I’m pagan-ish, but I respect the spirit of giving. Every kid deserves to have presents in December.