(I have stopped at a chain pharmacy near my home. I need to pick up makeup for my mother. On my last trip, the manager told me he would order the shade I wanted. Today I overhear a new manager explaining to the cashier that the old manager was transferred to try to fix serious problems at another store. The new manager is covering until the old one comes back. The makeup is still not in stock. I select my other items and approach the cashier.)

Cashier: “Did you find everything today?”

Me: “No. [Old Manager] said he was going to try and get some [Brand] makeup in shade 1C. You still don’t have it.”

Cashier: “We have [Brand] makeup.” *wanders over to shelf*

Me: “Yes, but I need shade 1C. You don’t have it.”

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

Me: “[Old Manager] was going to try and get [Brand] 1C makeup for me. You still don’t have it.”

Manager: “Oh, I saw that order. I canceled it.”

Me: “Why?”

Manager: “Because we have [Brand] makeup in a lot of shades. We don’t need that one, as well.”

Me: “But he was ordering it especially for me. You even have a space on the shelf for it.”

Manager: *grabs a much darker shade* “We have 4C.”

Me: “Yes, and I’m sure that’s helpful for someone who needs 4C. I need 1C.”

Manager: “So, you don’t want this?”

Me: “No. Can you replace the order for the 1C?”

Manager: “No, I’m not going to stock that. We have plenty of other shades.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll get it at [Competitor], as well as everything else I need.” *turns to leave*

Cashier: “So, you don’t want this?” *points to items I left on the counter*

Me: “No, not anymore.”

Manager: “It’s racial, isn’t it?”

(I stared at him for a second. He’s the same race I am, but [Old Manager] is a minority in my area. I decided it wasn’t worth the effort, so I just walked out without answering. I’m really hoping [Old Manager] comes back soon.)

(After I wreck and roll my car down a hill, I spend a few weeks in the hospital for various injuries. In that time, my store manager is promoted and a new manager takes her place. On my first day back, the store manager calls me to the office over the store’s loudspeaker. I knock on the office door, where I can clearly see her playing Candy Crush on her phone. I wait a moment, then knock again. She glares at me through the window and whips open the door.)

Store Manager: “Yes?”

Me: “Uh, hi. I’m [My Name], the [department manager]. You wanted to see me?”

Store Manager: “Oh, you’re the one who’s been off.”

Me: “Yeah, I rolled my car and—“

Store Manager: “You’ve missed several shifts. Weeks of your responsibilities are backed up.”

Me: “I was in the hospital but I filed for a medical leave of absence with HR.”

Store Manager: “I saw.”

Me: “Okay… so… I’ll get started on my work then?”

Store Manager: “You left us in a deep hole.”

Me: “Right, sorry. Again, I rolled my car and I was in the hospital.”

Store Manager: “We had to pick up your slack while you were off.”

Me: “I’m not sure I would call being stuck in a hospital bed for several weeks being ‘off.’ and I thought you said all my work was backed up.”

Store Manager: “I did.”

Me: “Well, are we backed up or did people pick up my ‘slack’?”

Store Manager: “I don’t appreciate sarcasm. I’ll give you a pass this time, but if you plan on leaving us like that again, you’ll need to notify us.”

Me: “A pass? For being in the hospital?”

Store Manager: “I’ll be keeping an eye on you. Go get started on your work.”

(She turns away from me and I assume that is the end of the conversation. I leave the office, only to be called back over the loudspeaker about ten minutes later. I knock again and wait for her to finish what she is doing on the computer before opening the door.)

Me: “You called?”

Store Manager: “Have a seat.” *turns the computer screen toward me* “I’m writing you up. This is a formal reprimand I’ll need you to sign to acknowledge this conversation.”

Me: “Why?”

Store Manager: “You have a very unprofessional attitude.”

Me: “Uh, sorry? When?”

Store Manager: “How about the entire conversation we just had? Or not coming to work for [weeks] and expecting to just waltz back into your old job?”

Me: “I was on medical leave because I wrecked my car.”

Store Manager: “And that mindset right there — everyone should cater to you.”

Me: “We should probably call HR.”

Store Manager: “No need. You can just sign this paper acknowledging that we talked about your attitude.”

Me: “No.”

Store Manager: “Excuse me?”

Me: “No, I’m not signing anything. I wrecked my car, I was in the hospital, and I went through the proper channels. I did nothing wrong.”

Store Manager: “You know Pennsylvania is an at-will employment state, right? I can fire you at any time and right now, it looks like we’re headed that way.”

Me: “Yes, I know. I also know I can also file a lawsuit against you and [Company] for firing me after going on a medical leave that was previously approved by our HR department. And yes, I have every email and voicemail saved.”

Store Manager: *glares* “Get out of my office.”

(She never did write me up for my “attitude,” but she did keep a very close eye on me for several months. When she stopped showing up and our previous store manager returned, it came out that the other store manager was skimming from the registers and blaming cashiers for the loss, forcing them to accept reprimands or be fired.)

(My husband is not a gamer, but he really likes watching me use my PlayStation because he enjoys my adventures. It should be noted that in “Dragon Age: Origins,” my character is married to Alistair, who looks and acts a bit like my husband. Currently, I’m playing “Skyrim.” My Dragonborn is married to Farkas, a sweet-natured but somewhat dim hunk of muscle who looks kind of like the Winter Soldier, and I’m walking around our house because I can’t find him.)

Me: “That’s weird; he’s usually right here at the fire, cooking. Or sometimes he’s asleep in the bed.”

Husband: “Maybe he ran off with your housecarl.”

Me: “I don’t think he’s smart enough to come up with that.”

(I finally try the last possible room, which is where my alchemy table is located, and I just have to stop and stare. A glitch has Farkas sitting down INSIDE the alchemy table, so that his head and shoulders are protruding from the top.)

Farkas: “Yes, love?”

Husband: *after a pause* “This is weirder than anything Alistair’s ever done, and I didn’t know that was possible.”

Me: “What I hear you saying is that I have weird taste in husbands.”

Husband: “Obviously.”

Our floor has two small commercial printers that serve all the department offices. One is located near the cubicles where temp workers and contractors are set up. It’s the closest for me, but lately, I had noticed that when I went to print documents, they wouldn’t always be there when I got to the printer. I put in a ticket with IT and found several other people had done so, as well. IT struggled to troubleshoot over the week, trying to figure out why the printer showed that it was printing documents, but hadn’t done so. The problem was inconsistent and seemed to come and go at random, and IT struggled to replicate it over the next few weeks. Eventually, they rerouted all documents to the far side of the floor, which was annoying.

One morning, IT asked to use my laptop to send a test document to the printer, trying to replicate the issue. He set up the laptop next to the printer to work. A moment later, I heard raised voices.

Apparently, the moment the document came hot off of the printer, the temp in the adjoining cubicle reached out, grabbed it, and threw it in his trash can! When we all came out of offices to see the issue, the IT guy was yelling at the temp for throwing out the paper, while the temp was angrily yelling at the IT guy for not fixing “his printer” from printing out random documents.

Turns out that whenever the temp was there, if he heard the printer start, he was throwing out the document as he thought it was his personal printer and didn’t want anything else printing from it. He only worked fifteen hours a week, explaining why the problem seemed to come and go. Because he had thrown out documents that needed to be shredded, and because he was so belligerent about it, he was let go from the company. Our printer was fine afterward.

(My roommate is reading news stories on her phone while I am in the bathroom, a couple of rooms away.)

Roommate: “Hey, there’s going to be a Vietnamese pigeon in [Neighborhood Near Us] soon!”

Me: “What?!” *suddenly realizes* “Oh, wait. Did you say a Vietnamese kitchen? Like a place where you get food?”

Roommate: “Yes, of course! What did you think I said?”

Me: “I heard Vietnamese pigeon! I was trying to figure out how they were different than pigeons in the rest of the world, and why we were getting one in [Neighborhood]!”

Roommate: “I worry about you sometimes, girl.”

(Yeah, me, too… In my defense, at least the words sound similar?)