My coworkers and I work at an outdoor attraction and things like this happen every day.

A daddy longlegs climbs up the podium.

Coworker #1: “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! It’s so gross! I can see its little fangs. How can you just sit at that podium while there’s a spider on it?!”

I flick the spider away with a pen. Incidentally, it lands near [Coworker #2], who starts to freak out.

Coworker #2: “God, [My Name], don’t make me talk to our boss.”

Some time passes, and my coworker goes to uncover the folding chairs. I don’t see what happens, but both coworkers run away, screaming at the top of their lungs, no exaggeration. They scream so loud someone from the next attraction, hundreds of feet away, sends another employee over to see if we’re okay.

Coworker #3 & Me: “What happened?”

Coworkers #1 & #2: “The chairs were covered in spiders!”

By now they are standing a good forty feet away from the attraction and acting scared for their lives. [Coworker #3 ] also backs away, remarking on how gross and creepy that is.

I walk over to the folding chairs. Under the tarp is a single wolf spider, maybe one inch across. I gently flick it away and set out the chairs.

Coworkers: “[My Name], how can you do that?”

I didn’t say this out loud, but I wanted to ask what kept them coming out to a job that takes place in the middle of a perfectly wild, secluded forest with no buildings in sight if they were THAT scared of the normal insect life!

My classmates and I are all standing outside the classroom, chatting with the professor, because the door to the classroom is locked. The professor has to call the maintenance person, so we have to wait. 

On the door and the wall and windows around it are banners and small posters for events and fun things around campus, and we’re reading them all and commenting about them. 

One of the posters has what looks like some kind of Asian script, meant to be read from top to bottom, right to left. We’re all discussing what it says because it’s written very strangely compared to the rest of the poster, which is written in English, left to right. Because I took Japanese in high school and am still studying, I’m trying to make it out. 

It finally dawns on me. 

Me: “Oh, hey, it says, ‘Asian Spring Festival, All Are Welcome.’”

Professor: “You can read that?! That’s so cool! What language is it in?”

Me: *Pauses* “It’s actually in English; it’s just that the font and formatting are weird.”

Everyone: “…Hey, it is in English!”

It’s been over five years, and I feel it’s finally safe enough to tell another story from That Library In Ohio. Others are linked at the end.

First, it’s important to understand how our schedules worked. We were divided into four groups to cover the weekend. We’ll call the two relevant ones Group A and Group B. I was part of Group A. That meant I worked Friday or Saturday — never both and never Sunday. Group B worked Friday or Sunday — never both and never Saturday. (The third and fourth groups worked similarly but flip-flopped.) So, basically, I worked every even Friday and every odd Saturday; it was a fairly reliable schedule and never changed, so I knew months out when I’d be working.

My family was planning an out-of-state vacation together, lasting from Monday to Wednesday of the week in question. I requested the three days off with plenty of time in advance, and [Bad Boss] approved it readily.

Then, that month’s schedule dropped. I was supposed to be scheduled that Friday, so I would actually be off Saturday to Wednesday. [Bad Boss], however, gave me Friday off… and then scheduled me for Saturday AND Sunday, both! She wrote it up so Monday was “one of my weekend days”, which meant I was using Tuesday and Wednesday for vacation. This meant I was only burning up sixteen hours of vacation time instead of twenty-four, but it also meant I was working the entire weekend — something that had NEVER happened to me nor anyone else in the library system in all the YEARS I worked there. This also impacted all my plans to actually pack and prepare for my vacation. And [Bad Boss] did this all without even asking me and considered herself to be “doing me a favor.”

I complained to [Bad Boss] about this, saying it was against our scheduling policy to put me on Sunday when I was in Group A. She insisted that there was no such written policy. It was largely verbal, tradition, and good faith. But the contract DID say were to have at least ONE actual weekend day off, meaning it was against the contract to have us work both Saturday and Sunday. She continued to insist that she was in the right because pre-approved vacation was only “estimated” time off, and that I should be grateful that she was saving me vacation time I could use later.

I contacted the Union over this, which resulted in several very, very repetitive meetings with me, the union representative, [Bad Boss], [Bad Assistant Director], and [Bad HR Guy].

The gist of most discussions was:

Bad HR Guy: “Time off is only an ‘estimate’. We can change it based on staffing needs.”

Union Rep: “The contract says that when vacation is approved, you must fill in those hours with another employee. You can’t fill in a vacationer with herself!”

Bad Assistant Director: *To me* “You should have come to us first before going to the Union.”

Union Rep: “She did go to [Bad Boss] first. The answer was, ‘No,’ and, ‘We’re right and not changing it.’”

Bad HR Guy: “That’s because pre-approved time off is only an ‘estimate.’ We might have to change it based on staff availability, like we did in this case.”

Union Rep: “If there was a staffing issue, why did you even approve of the vacation in the first place?”

Bad HR Guy: “Time off is an ‘estimate.’”

Bad Assistant Director: “And you really should have said something before going immediately to the Union and getting them involved.”

Me: “I had no idea I would ever be scheduled for Sunday! I’m not part of Group B; why would I expect this whole weekend out of all weekends in the year to be the one I randomly get scheduled to work out of nowhere?”

Bad Boss: “If you wanted Sunday off, you should have requested it as vacation, too.”

Me: “How was I supposed to know you’d even put me on the schedule then? I’m a Saturday worker!”

Bad Boss: *Shrug* “If you wanted Sunday off, you should have put in for that day as vacation, too.”

Me: “That is unbelievable. Do I have to request every single Sunday as vacation from now on just to make sure I have one weekend day off during the week?”

Bad HR Guy: “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Me: “If you’re going to claim all of our pre-approved vacation can change at any time, how do I know you won’t just cancel any vacation I have because you want me to work instead?”

Bad HR Guy: “I don’t see that happening.”

Me: “But if it’s an ‘estimate,’ you’re maintaining that you have the authority to do just that.”

Bad HR Guy: “I don’t see that happening.”

Me: “Or, if it’s just an ‘estimate,’ you could force me to take more vacation hours than I want, burning up my vacation without my consent.”

Bad HR Guy: “I don’t see that happening.”

Bad Assistant Director: “[My Name], you’re just making things up that never happened. And I don’t see the issue. You get two weekend days off—” *Friday and Monday, NOT actual weekend days* “—and you’re not scheduled Monday to Wednesday. Plus, you get to save one full vacation day to use later. I don’t see your problem. No one else has a problem with this.”

Me: “That’s because you all clearly think it’s acceptable for me to work both Saturday and Sunday when no one else ever has. How can I believe this won’t happen again?”

Bad Boss: “We just need you to staff this once.”

Union Rep: “If staffing was an issue, why did you approve [My Name]’s vacation in the first place? Or why didn’t you try to find another employee? The contract does allow for overtime in cases like this.”

Bad Assistant Director: “Vacation requests are always done on an ‘estimated’ basis. Things change, and we need to be able to change them. I don’t know why you’re so mad. Everyone else we’ve done this to is happy to save their vacation days for later in the year.”

It’s worth mentioning that it was November at this point, and I needed to use up a certain amount of vacation time or risk losing it.

Union Rep: “You didn’t even ask [My Name] if this is what she wanted.”

Bad HR Guy: “And she didn’t even come to any of us first.”

Me: “I talked to [Bad Boss].”

Union Rep: “And the answer was, ‘No.’’”

Bad Assistant Director: “That’s because vacation times are all ‘estimates.’ You have your Monday to Wednesday off. I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

Me: “You signed the paperwork for Monday to Wednesday as vacation, not weekend days.”

Bad Boss: “Everyone else is always happy to save their vacation time for later.”

Me: “As far as I know, no one else has ever had to work an entire weekend before.”

I hope you get the idea. We had half a dozen meetings saying the exact same thing. The Bad Bosses refused to back down no matter what. The vacation week came, and I wound up working both Saturday and Sunday and scrambling to get packed for Monday. By this time, I was eye-deep in searching for another job. We eventually reached a “compromise” in that the library would stop treating vacation as “estimates,” but by then, it was too late to do anything to impact me.

Several months passed before we got to that compromise; I landed my new job, and that library had to back-pay me for all my unused vacation time anyway.

Related:
Weathering A Boss Like This Is A Challenge
Moving On To Greeter Things
Look Up Some Books On Work/Life Balance
The (Water)Main Reason To Close
From Desk ‘Til Sawn

My partner and I are at the mall when I suddenly feel weak. We find a bench to sit down on, and I check my blood sugars, as I’m diabetic. It’s low, and I have nothing sweet on me, so my partner opts to go find something while I wait.

I’m sitting toward one side of the bench with plenty of room on the other side, even for someone who’s a bit less social. A woman comes up and tells me to move.

Me: “I need to sit, but there’s room for you, as well.”

Woman: “I don’t sit next to people. Get up. You’re just being lazy.”

Me: “I really need to sit. There’s a bench across the way if you don’t want to share.”

The bench in question is maybe ten feet away and is the same exact style as the one I’m on.

Woman: “No, you’re going to move! I want this bench!”

She stomps her foot. Literally. I can’t help but laugh a bit at this grown woman throwing a tantrum like a child over a mall bench.

Woman: “Don’t laugh at me! What the f*** is wrong with you?!”

Me: “I’m not the one demanding someone get up from a bench simply so they don’t have to share it.”

She reaches for me, but I hear a loud “HEY!” coming from someone else. We both turn to see mall security coming toward the lady.

Security: “Ma’am, keep moving. We’re not doing this again today.”

Woman: “I… Well… He laughed at me!”

Security: “Probably because your attitude is a joke. Either keep moving or we’ll kick you out again.”

The woman glared at me and then stormed off. Apparently, she didn’t like people sitting on “her” bench and would yell at people until they moved.

My partner came back with a soda, and after bringing my sugars back up, I was able to go back to browsing the mall just fine.

I haven’t seen that woman there since.

I work for a law firm. I do intake for new cases, both existing clients and potential clients. An existing client calls.

Client: “So, we fired a guy we just hired. He lied on his application, so we fired him his first day, after about six hours. I just want to make sure we’re covered because he said he’s going to sue.”

Me: “Okay. I need a bit more information. First off, what was the job?”

Client: “[Specific job title]. He was hired because he claimed to be bilingual. When he started yesterday, he said he actually speaks six languages. Everything was fine until he took his first phone call.”

Me: “What happened?”

Client: “He couldn’t understand the person. He claimed to be bilingual and then said he spoke six languages, but he doesn’t understand Spanish.”

Me: “Okay. Did you ever ask him if he could speak Spanish during the interviews or application?”

Client: “No. It said we needed a bilingual person. He said he was.”

Me: “I don’t think I’m understanding. You ran an ad for a ‘bilingual employee’ and did not specify what the second language would be?”

Client: “It said bilingual. That means English and Spanish. Then, he claims he speaks six languages: English, French, German, and some other things. I don’t actually remember. But none of them were Spanish. We said bilingual!”

Me: “Um, I’m not trying to be rude here, but bilingual literally means that they speak two languages. It does not mean English and Spanish.”

Client: “Of course it does!”

Me: “Whether or not you are covered in case he sues is something I will leave to your attorney. But before she calls you back, you should probably look up the word ‘bilingual’. It does not mean what you think it means.”

Client: “That’s why you aren’t the attorney! Everyone knows that means English and Spanish!”

The client was very upset when his attorney explained that, in fact, bilingual is a word with a defined meaning and that meaning does not specify what two languages a person speaks. She went on to further explain that, in our area, Spanish is not the most common second language and that the ad should have specified Spanish. We’re still not certain the client understands.

Related:
Totally Estúpido! Part 27
Totally Estúpido! Part 26
Totally Estúpido! Part 25
Totally Estúpido! Part 24