Years ago, I was the Chief Technology Officer of a software company that was perhaps the worst-run company I’ve ever seen. It was run by a “chairman” who used to be a flight engineer and who had no experience at all in the software industry.

One day, in his expansive wisdom, Mr. Chairman decided that we were going to give his friend (a local pastor) an office. I was ordered by Mr. Chairman to make it impossible for anybody — “Even you!” — to access any of Mr. Pastor’s files — because, y’know, privacy and stuff. I attempted to point out a couple of problems with that scenario but was immediately shut down and ordered to do what I was told.

Now, this particular person had… well, let’s call it a quirk. When anything went wrong with his computer, his solution was to format his C: drive. (Yeah, I know…) The inevitable happened, and Mr. Chairman ordered me to restore all of Mr. Pastor’s files from the backup (which we normally did… ahem… religiously).

I looked at him innocently and said, “What backup?”

It took possibly five seconds for steam to begin pouring from his ears, and for him to start screaming, “YOU MEAN YOU DIDN’T DO A BACKUP?! WHY, YOU!” and so on.

I waited for him to finish, and then I asked him politely how he proposed that I do a backup of files that I’m not allowed to have any access to. The silence that followed was glorious.

I work in a restaurant. I had a party of five on our patio who came in a bit buzzed. They were all in their twenties, celebrating [Birthday Girl]’s twenty-first birthday. As the youngest, she had the pleasure of being doted on by her friends who were ALL scrambling to buy her drinks and shots… up to a point. After the first drink, Birthday Girl’s enthusiasm turned to, “I don’t know. I’m kind of feeling it already.” Her friends did convince her to go for a second round.

When they wanted to do a third round — tequila for everyone — she kept saying:

Birthday Girl: “No, you guys don’t have to do that. I’m really fine.”

Her friends responded:

Friends: “If you’re not drunk on your twenty-first, you’re not fine!“

They went back and forth for a while like that. Then, I told the girl:

Me: “It’s your birthday; I think you should pick the tequila this time! Why don’t you follow me and I can show you our selections?”

As soon as we were inside, I said:

Me: “Look, if you don’t want to drink, I’ll bring out tequila for them and give you water, okay?”

It worked great, and a while after that, the group paid and left.

But I think back to it sometimes. I think a lot of us want to treat our loved ones when they’re legally old enough to be treated, but seriously, if someone says they’ve drunk enough, it shouldn’t matter if you think they’re drunk enough.

When I worked at a nearby restaurant, it would attract quite the crowd. The food was amazing and we had a band that played almost every night. It was also right next to a really nice country club and would attract a lot of their residents.

One night, we were absolutely slammed. I had a total of probably twelve tables at once and it was just a mess. Everyone was pretty understanding and could see we were understaffed, except for this party of four I had. They were rich, rude, and just downright degrading.

I was doing the best I could, considering how busy we were, and the one woman was just not having it. She absolutely flipped out on me.

Woman: “You suck at your job! You’re not cut out to be a server. You should be fired, and you should be ashamed of how horrible your performance is! You’re the worst server ever!”

She just kept going on and on. I don’t usually let people get to me, especially this entitled jerk, but it happened; I broke down and started crying from the stress of how busy it was and her degrading me.

I took five, went to the bathroom, composed myself, and went back out to finish waiting on them.

Their attitude had completely changed; everyone at the table apologized to me profusely, even the woman who screamed at me. Apparently, another table nearby (who I wasn’t even waiting on) heard what the lady was saying and went up to the table and ripped them a new one, told them it was disgusting the way she was speaking to me, and basically called the table out on being horrible people.

And after all that, as I was talking to them, the guy from the other table came up to me (in front of the rude table) and said, “No one should ever be treated like that.” He gave me a hug and handed me 100$. I tried to refuse to take it, but the guy insisted on it and wouldn’t take it back.

It almost brought me to tears again. It was a very emotional shift.

I used to be a seamstress for a uniform shop. It was mostly boring and repetitive, but once in a while, customers brought interesting projects. I liked the duffel bag repairs for the SWAT team, the first aid kits, the reflective vests, and honestly, even putting hidden pockets in armor carriers. It took a couple of hours but looked so nice! But then there came the dress…

This one woman was a regular but hadn’t brought non-work-related things before this day. She showed up in early December with a formal gown — fitted and boned bodice, strapless, lined all the way down to her ankles, posh fabric.

Customer: “Could you bring this in a little at the bodice?”

Me: “Um, well, yes, I can but it’s not easy, and I have lots of regular work-related sewing to keep up with. Is this for New Year’s?”

Customer: “No, it’s for an event this coming Saturday.”

I actually laughed.

Me: “No, absolutely not.”

She tried to guilt and pressure me a little. Then, she realized I was serious.

Customer: “How can I make it fit, then?”

Me: “You could try a piece of cotton quilt batting wrapped around your torso to pad it out.”

She didn’t like that, but she left me alone.

The sales guy who was helping her came back later to thank me. He thought it was a bad idea to try even if there had been time, and she tried to manipulate him, too.

I’m serving in a restaurant while I’m in college. I always feel it’s rude to only give the man the check. It’s outdated, it’s sexist, and, a lot of times, I’ve seen the wife or girlfriend pay for the meal.

This older family comes in — kids in their late twenties and parents most likely in their sixties or seventies. They look a bit more like country folk, most of them wearing flannel. They are pretty quiet throughout their meal. They eat their meal, and I go get them their check.

When I deliver it, I put it directly in the middle of the table.

Me: “Here’s the check!”

The dad grabs it aggressively and makes an angry exhale noise.

Dad: “Do I look like a man that can’t feed his family?”

Me: “No, but you never know who has the wallet.”

Dad: “If I feed the family, why wouldn’t I have the wallet?”

This angers me because both my parents worked while I was growing up. They both were successful and didn’t need to rely on each other to get by.

Me: “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and opened the check. His wife was acting totally on his side, also giving me angry body language.