I was a waitress at a corporate spot for ten years. My boss’s boss was in for one of his monthly visits. He was widely disliked by everyone for the way that he spoke with people.

I entered the server area off of the dining room to get drinks, and [Boss’s Boss] was in there with my boss.

Boss’s Boss: “You should be smiling.”

Keep in mind that we were completely out of any customer’s view.

Me: “I smile when it counts.”

And I kept on working.

Boss’s Boss: “You should smile because I’m here.”

I set down my glasses and looked at him over my shoulder.

Me: “So, you like it when women fake it for you?”

My boss choked on his coffee and walked away laughing. [Boss’s Boss] chuckled uncomfortably and then jokingly asked if anyone had the number for Human Resources. He didn’t speak to me for his next three visits, and he never told me to smile again. Big win.

I work in a hotel. Like many businesses, we have the remnants from the global health crisis sticking around in the form of cautionary signs, ample hand sanitizer, and plastic barriers at the front desk. These things are just sheets of hard, clear plastic that sit on the counter — sneeze guards. The guard covers the whole front of the desk, which is obviously the part of it where we interact with guests. Occasionally, there’s the odd guest with a hearing impairment who needs to stand at the side where there’s no barrier to hear us, but other than that, nobody really minds it. People don’t even notice it most of the time — even going so far as to accidentally slam their hands into it when handing us their IDs because they didn’t register that it’s right there.

Could we take it down? Yeah, probably. But the truth is, we all like it. We don’t want to take it down. Not only does it keep people from sneezing or coughing all over us, but it also provides a nice buffer between the agent and any angry or aggressive guest. Sometimes you just want something between you and an a**hole.

This guy walks in and throws his ID on the desk to check in. I pull his name up on the computer, and he just starts getting pissy because of the sneeze guards.

Guest: *Hitting the plastic* “Why is this s*** still up? Huh? Why? Do you really want this here?”

I glance up at him for a second.

Me: “Yes, actually, I do enjoy not having to worry about guests sneezing on me.”

Guest: *Scoffing* “Ridiculous. This is f****** ridiculous. You really think this works? Idiots. You think it will stop microscopic germs from getting in? Do you walk around in public carrying a big sheet of plastic in front of you because you’re afraid of germs? Huh? Do you?!”

Me: “Of course I don’t. Because there’s a very similar product that accomplishes the same thing while being much less bulky. It’s called a mask, and I do wear one in public, yes.”

This dude has already been red in the face, just completely pissed off, shouting at me, but I can nearly see smoke coming out of his ears at this point.

Guest: “Idiots. F****** ridiculous.”

And he muttered something else under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out before stalking away and going to his room.

Sir, we have ice machines on the first and third floors should you need something to ease the pain of all that butthurt. No need to get offended over a piece of plastic that has no bearing on your life whatsoever.

This was some ten years ago, and while the conversation IS paraphrased, I remember it like it was yesterday.

At the time, I was working the grave and swing shifts as a casino player’s host in Reno, Nevada. For those who don’t know what this job is, we take care of the high rollers — make sure they get comps, dining and hotel reservations, invites to tournaments, limo rides, you name it. I wore a nice black blazer with a name tag, slacks, and comfortable but professional shoes, with my hair and makeup done.

On the days I worked the swing shift, I was off at 3:00 am, but after the wait for the bus and the ride home, I would make it to my place at about 5:00 am. Directly across the street from my home was a retail pharmacy chain. I stopped in a lot of mornings to grab a protein shake, pick up prescriptions, etc. But on Wednesday mornings, they put out a LOT of clearance items. You could snag small appliances for dirt cheap! So, I was always there on Wednesdays stocking up on Christmas and birthday presents, etc. The employees and manager knew me by sight, and some by name.

I was usually a zombie after work — like most people, I think — and this Wednesday was no different. I was looking over the latest selection, trying to decide if I NEEDED a new coffee maker or just wanted one because it was on clearance for like $5.

A woman was next to me, speaking Tagalog into her phone. I don’t speak it, but Reno has a pretty large Filipino community, so I could at least recognize it. Her language is not important to the story. It just struck me how odd the little things we remember are.

She finished her conversation and looked at me.

Woman: “Can I get a discount on this?”

I don’t remember what “this” was — some small appliance.

Woman: “The box is smashed up.”

Me: “No idea, but I would ask to plug it in to test it before I bought it if the box is damaged.”

I have no idea if anyone can actually do that, but it seemed reasonable to me.

Lady: *Demanding “Why would you sell something that doesn’t work?!”

I had no idea at this point that she thought I worked there; I thought she was making conversation. In my defense, I was half asleep and just wanted a good deal on a d***ed stick blender!

Me: “Oh, I absolutely wouldn’t sell it. But I’m not in the business of selling things anyway.”

Lady: “Oh, so you are too good and important to sell things? That is just for the low employees?”

I finally looked at her. Until then, I had been pretty focused on staying awake. I could see that she was getting angry. It dawned on me that I still had my name tag on. I slipped it off — they are the kinds with magnets, not pins — and stuck it in my pocket.

Me: “Oh, sorry, I forgot to take this off. I don’t actually—”

I started to say I didn’t work there, but she was having NONE of that!

Lady: “Oh, you think you are too good to help me? Just because I am Filipina?”

She may have said “Filipino”. I confess that I don’t know which is correct and am going only off memory.

Lady: “My money is good, you…”

She said something in Tagalog that did NOT sound flattering.

Lady: “You think you can trick me by taking off your name tag?!”

Me: *Sighing* “I don’t want your money. I don’t work here. I am shopping. Please leave me alone.”

She ignored everything I’d just said except to say:

Lady: “Oh, you won’t be getting my money because you need to give me this free for not helping me.”

I tried to reason with her.

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t give you that. I really don’t work here. If you take it without paying, that is stealing.”

Lady: “Oh, now you think I am poor and a thief?”

WTF? Where did “poor” come from?

Lady: “I want to talk to the manager of the whole store!”

Me: *Turning back to the shelf* “Lady, I wish you would f****** talk to anyone but me.”

I didn’t swear because I was angry; I just have a potty mouth. She stomped off, her heels making little “tick, tick, tick, tick” sounds on the linoleum.

I decided I DID need another coffee maker… AND that stick blender. As I was putting both in my cart, I heard, “Tick, tick, tick, tick”. Great, she’s back.

But she was not alone. The store manager was with her.

Lady: *Shrieking* “There she is! She called me a poor thief and said a swear at me! I want you to fire her and make her poor!”

Weird obsession with poverty…

Store Manager: *Confused* “What is happening?”

I grinned and held up my coffee maker.

Me: “SHOPPING!”

Store Manager: *Even more confused* “But why are you insulting her and swearing?”

Me: “She thinks I work here and wanted me to let her steal an appliance.”

Okay, I know that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but she started it!

This was the moment that her medication stopped working. In a very loud mix of English and Tagalog, she shrieked out our entire interaction. Surprisingly, she told it correctly, too — except that I didn’t put my name tag away to trick her.

[Store Manager] was done at this point.

Store Manager: “You’re fired.”

The woman grinned maliciously at me, grabbed her smashed-up box, and stormed off with [Store Manager] as I shrugged and made my way over to the allergy medication or some other area of the store. I don’t 100% remember, but I have terrible allergies, so that seems likely.

At the register, [Store Manager] asked me what had REALLY happened. I told him everything, including how I’d told her I wished she’d f****** talk to anyone but me.

Store Manager: *Laughing* “You’re still fired.”

Me: *Grinning* “Yay! Do I get a severance package?”

Store Manager: *Laughing harder* “To be fair, you did swear at her. Plus… you don’t actually work here, so… no severance package.”

I shopped there for many years before I moved, and I never saw her again, so I am sure she went on content with getting me fired and making me poor.

A few years ago while I was in school and job hunting, I got an interview at a company for office work: filing, answering phones, setting appointments, etc. I was looking forward to getting an office job instead of retail or fast food.

The building had big window walls that overlooked the parking lot, so you could see cars pulling in and parking. I pulled into the lot and parked my car. As I was walking in, I noticed that there was a car parked in the disability-accessible space in front of the office, and the car looked just like mine.

Once I was inside, I was greeted by the manager, who kind of gave me a scowling look. It made me a little uneasy as we walked back to his office. We sat down, and he started asking me questions in a bit of a clipped tone. He seemed annoyed by my answers, and I didn’t understand what was going on at that point.

Finally, he said:

Manager: “Do you always park in disabled spaces?”

Me: *Confused* “What do you mean?”

He went on a rant about how entitled I was for parking in the disabled spot at a potential place of employment, and I was just getting more lost.

Me: “What is going on? I didn’t park in the disabled space; I’m parked in the lot.”

Manager: “I watched your car pull in, and I saw you park there!”

Me: “I did not park in a disabled spot. But the car I walked by that is parked in that spot does look similar to my car.”

Manager: “I know I saw you park there and get out of the car!”

Me: “No, I didn’t.”

At that point, I was over the whole interview. I knew this would be a clusterf*** of a place to work for if this was the guy managing it. Then, he went a step further.

Manager: “Prove it.”

I grabbed my purse and got my keys out. I didn’t even bother waiting for him and just left the office. He jogged after me and hurried outside to stand and wait. His face went from smug arrogance to Surprised Pikachu Face real quick as I walked past the car in the disabled spot.

Manager: “Where are you going?”

I walked over to my car, and then I turned around and made eye contact as I hit the button on my keys to unlock it and got in.

He started to walk over to me, calling out that he was sorry about the misunderstanding, but I just put the car in reverse and left. I didn’t even make eye contact with him as I drove away.

This was my second interview, so the manager knew what I and my car looked like. I don’t know why he said he’d seen me. I’m assuming it was a lie to get me to admit I had done it. I’ve pondered this for many a night, trust me!

The last hotel I worked at was an absolute trainwreck. My manager refused to hire new staff and just forced all his workers to do everything, so even though I was a night audit worker, I was also made to fold over 400 pounds of laundry every night and do breakfast, and if the housekeepers lied about cleaning rooms or we overbooked because rooms didn’t get cleaned, I would have to clean them myself.

I didn’t sign up for any of this, and none of it was listed in my job description that they had me sign when I got hired by the company. If these duties were discussed up front, I definitely would not have taken the job as they were only paying fifty cents above minimum wage (15.50). The physical requirements for the jobs that we were forced to do didn’t match the physical requirements listed on the paperwork for our job description when we got hired by the company.

Another really terrible thing about the company is that the general manager was unable to fire anyone. The owner had to approve anyone being fired and, since we were so understaffed, the owner would not allow him to fire anyone. So, of course, we ended up with a bunch of workers who knew that they didn’t have to do literally anything because they could not be fired.

[General Manager] was literally all we had; there were no supervisors or assistant general managers. He and I went back and forth on this for over a month, and he kept saying that he would hire a laundry person or there would be an improvement to the amount that I had to fold each night, but there were no major changes.

Eventually, I sat down with him and I told him hey, this is not in my job description. I didn’t sign up for this. It’s causing a lot of physical stress that is making my time away from work miserable because I’m having to recover from overworking. He said that all of this was in my job description even though it wasn’t and that if I wouldn’t do it, he would fire me. Fat chance, of course, since he couldn’t fire anyone.

Right around this time, we had an episode where we ruined a guest’s wedding night, and I started looking for another job. I no longer want to be associated with this hotel. Fairly quickly, I got a much better paying job at a much less s***ty hotel, and I decided that I wasn’t going to give my hotel two weeks’ notice because everyone else who had given them two weeks’ notice had been immediately cut from the schedule. [General Manager] had also given away half of my shifts without any warning for no reason at all before all the laundry issues came up. So he did not 100% deserve a two-week notice.

We continued our argument about what was or was not my job. I eventually went and got the job description that I had signed when I was hired, printed out the job description for a laundry agent, and taped both of them to his door with the differences circled.

When [General Manager] came in and saw them, he was understandably furious. He called me up and said that if I wanted to play by the rules so much from now on, I could not leave the front desk for anything, I could not have headphones on, and I was not allowed to sit at the front desk; I had to stand for my entire shift. He just went on for like ten minutes on all these demands and things to make my life miserable.

Me: *Politely* “I got a new job two weeks ago. I start there tomorrow, so I won’t be coming in anymore.”

I hung up and never looked back, and I am MUCH happier at my new hotel.