A long time ago, I worked at a company that gave me a retirement account through a specific pension provider. I eventually changed jobs to a different company that provided a retirement account through another provider. I called them to roll my old account funds into my new one.

Call Center Worker: “We can do that for you, but there is a $50 account closing fee.”

Me: “Why do you have an account closing fee?”

Call Center Worker: “That’s just our standard admin fee for closing the account.”

Me: “Okay, well then I’ll leave it open, but I’ll transfer everything except one dollar.”

Call Center Worker: “We require a $50 minimum in case you do want to close at a later date.”

Me: “Okay, fine, roll over all my funds except for $50. I’ll keep the account open.”

I tell them to send me quarterly updates in my $50 (I opt in for the paper update, sent through the mail). They invest it and make it grow, and so each quarter I get them to transfer over all but $50 of my account balance. It’s usually just a check for a few dollars, but they do it all the same. 

By this point, I’ve cost them way more than $50 of service, postage, and checks they mail to me, but I still have a few decades to retirement. Let’s see how much I can cost them before they give me my $50.

I was working as a sign painter’s apprentice years ago, and we did a bunch of hand lettering work for a local church, the main sign out front, their van, and on their main glass doors.

My boss slams down the phone and, red in the face, spins around in his chair.

Boss: “That was the minister. He says he’s not paying. Said there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Me: “After three months of excuses? Seriously?”

Boss: “Oh, there’s something we can do about it. Are you willing to meet me here tomorrow at 2 AM?”

Me: “Uh… I’m getting paid?”

Boss: “Of course!”

Me: “Then yes.”

The next night, it’s quiet; the whole village is asleep. We ride our bikes under the cover of darkness, backpacks clinking with supplies. We stop in front of the church, the van glinting in the streetlight, the proud glass doors gleaming with the hand-painted lettering we’d worked so hard on.

Boss: *Pulling out four cans of Easy-Off.* “God may forgive, but oven cleaner won’t.”

We spray everything. Every careful brushstroke, every letter, until the paint bubbles and melts. Then we rinse it all down with a weed sprayer. By the time we’re done, the signs look like blank slates, as if we’d never been there at all.

Me: *Chuckling as the paint washes into the gutter.* “Guess he was right, there’s nothing we can do, but we can undo.”

Back at the shop, we crack open a couple of beers and lean back, watching the clock tick past 4 AM.

Boss: “That’s that. If he calls, I’ll tell him to pray on it.”

He never did call. Six months later, the local paper carried the headline: “Minister Charged with Embezzlement, Removed from Position.”

I used to manage a medium-sized convenience store. We open at 7 AM every day, and every Wednesday we start to get this customer who would wait outside from 6:55 AM, and then call the store number literally the second the clock turned to seven and say:

Customer: “Open the doors! You’re late!”

This would bug me no end, so one Wednesday I answered the call and said:

Me: “Oh, sorry. I was on my way to open the doors, but I’m the only one here right now, and I had to answer the phone.”

Next week:

Me: “Sorry, I was on my way to the door, but the phone keeps ringing…”

By week three, she had stopped calling and demoted herself to just standing outside the door, glaring angrily. I would open the door fifteen seconds past seven, and I would be rewarded with a huff and an eye roll.

My best friend is getting married, and I’d booked the day off about six months previously so l could go. A week before the wedding:

Me: “Uh, [Boss]? The schedules are out for next week, and I’m on them.”

Boss: “So?”

Me: “I’m off next week. I’ve had it scheduled off since December last year.”

Boss: “No, you didn’t.”

Me: “I have a text history from me to you, showing me requesting it, and you approving it.”

Boss: “Well, you know how the schedules are flexible. You need to be here next week.”

Me: “No. I will be in New England next week as the maid of honor for my best friend’s wedding. Flights and accommodations are booked, and my dress was not cheap.”

Boss: “You’re coming in next week, or you’re not coming in ever again.”

Me: “Do you honestly think I’m going to choose this $9 an hour retail job over missing my best friend’s wedding?!”

Boss: “They’ll post it on Instagram, won’t they? Just look at those pictures.”

Me: “You know what? I was going to miss some of the early wedding prep and parties this week because I was being considerate and only taking four days off. I’m done. I’m out of here today. Bye.”

Boss: “What? Wait. Let’s see about getting you two days off next week—”

Me: “—I said, bye. I’ll be back after the wedding for my final paycheck.”

Boss: “Well, good luck finding another job in this economy!”

Me: “Another $9 an hour job in retail? You don’t get it, do you? This job is crappy enough that it holds no power over me, so neither do you. See you in a couple of weeks.”

I walked out of there, mind clear, and happy to attend every event of that wedding. When I got back to town, I found a retail job within a week, a few blocks closer to home, and for $10.50 an hour! Also, they were still hiring, so I told my ex-coworkers about it and spurred a mass exodus. 

None of this would have happened if I’d been left off the schedule…

A customer rushes up to the door and has the decency to ask:

Customer: “When do you close?”

Me: “In two minutes, ma’am.” 

For a split second, I think this customer might be one of the good ones, who will either run to get one or two items and get out as quickly as possible, or will decide it is indeed too late to complete their full shopping trip and come back another time… but no.

Customer: “Oh, good! I can still come in!”

She slows down considerably and strolls inside.

She’s at the checkout about forty minutes later, fake apologizing between giggles.

Customer: “Ha ha, you probably hate me, ha ha. I know you probably wanna go home, ha ha.”

Me: “Yes, after we’ve cashed out the checkouts, and complete all my end-of-day administrative tasks, wipe down my assigned counters, mirrors, and work surfaces, bring in the outdoor signs, replace today’s sale signs with tomorrow’s signs, and about a dozen other minor tasks.”

Customer: “Oh, that sucks! How long does that take?”

Me: “I can actually do it all quite fast… once the final customer leaves. Normally, I’d be heading out the door by now.”

Customer: “…oh.”

She paid and slunk out in silence. I know she was more embarrassed than remorseful, but it still felt good.