When I was fifteen, I got my first part-time summer job as a “server” at a local buffet restaurant. I put “server” in quotes because what I did was refresh the trays of food, bring out new utensils and flatware, and in general look after a section of the buffet. I was not in any way doing table service.

My family had a two-week vacation planned for the beginning of August, and as I was only fifteen, there was no way that I was not going to be going on it. I was upfront about that and the dates in my interview, I gave the manager a letter detailing the dates that I would be out when I started, and I periodically reminded him of the dates throughout May, June, and July. He always acknowledged these with a verbal “okay,” and I never got the impression that those constraints would not be honored.

Fast forward to late July, the week before the vacation started, and lo and behold, I saw my name all over the schedule for those two weeks when I would be out. I went to the manager and remind him that I wouldn’t be there.

Manager: “Time off is never guaranteed. If you want that time off, you need to find other people to cover your shifts. If you don’t show up and there is no one covering for you, you will be fired.”

Me: “Okay…?”

I did not find anyone to cover my shifts. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I didn’t have contact information for any of my coworkers, and as this was the early 1990s, there was no social media or any of those other fallbacks. Besides, when I got home and consulted with my Dad on that dilemma, he reassured me that I had done everything right and that the whole situation was the manager’s fault and his problem to fix.

So, we went on vacation as planned.

Two weeks later, we came home to a lot of increasingly angry voicemails from the manager, really ranting and threatening, which pissed my parents off quite a bit. 

The next day, my dad took me to drop off my uniform and pick up my last paycheck, since we both assumed that I was fired. Surprisingly, this was not the case.

Manager: “So, you aren’t coming in for your shift tomorrow?!”

Me: “No!”

Dad: “After what you said on our answering machine? You have got to be kidding!”

Honestly, I would have quit after Labor Day, anyway, since my parents were adamant that during the school year my job was to focus on school. I wasn’t unhappy to have those last couple of weeks free, even though I was upset at how my very first job ended.

A mom drops off a gaming PC. Allegedly, her son has been complaining about it overheating and she’s decided to see what can be done about it as a surprise for his birthday, meaning she removed the PC from the house without his knowledge. Remember that.

This is in the summer, so overheating cases are common, and most PCs only require some quick treatment with our air gun. However, when the tech examines this one, she has concerns about the power supply, so she accepts the computer for repair with apologies, explaining that, due to our current traffic, it will be a number of days before it even makes it to the bench.

The customer seems displeased by this but accepts the tech’s explanation and quote, clearing us to do the work.

We assume that she told her son about this as he began to call the shop every… single… day. He calls every day, multiple times a day, asking if we have started work on his PC.

Eventually, the technician, who happens to be the owner’s daughter, gets fed up with it and gets permission from her father to deal with the computer and get it out of our shop.

As soon as she pops the side panel off, we find out why this kid has been calling us so incessantly.

Apparently, when his PC is off while he is at school or work or whatever he does (I don’t know his age) he uses the PC case to hide his weed as neither parent is the type to open up a computer.

Now, this isn’t the cause of the overheating problem, but it is the cause of a new legal dilemma, as this is 2009 and marijuana legalization hasn’t begun anywhere yet.

In the end, the owner of the shop decides to call the mother and bring her down to the store where he explains to her exactly why we have to reject the repair, giving her the chance to handle the issue without police involvement. 

I’m not sure what the conversation came down to, but in the end, that PC ended up in our “scrap for parts” pile and never saw the light of day again.

When I was in middle school, I remember my friend and I were at the park after a fun day at the pool. There was another family there, and their two kids were playing on the playground. These kids were much younger than us — maybe four years old?

In our town, we have a restriction on the age older kids can play on the playsets when other kids are around. This age happened to be fourteen. My friend and I were both thirteen, but we were super considerate of this other family’s kids. We steered clear of bumping into them and other things of the sort.

We were on the swings when their mother came up to us.

Mother: “Are you kidding me? Why are you on the playset when my babies are on there? You could get them hurt!”

Friend: “We were avoiding your kids for the same reason, ma’am, and could you please get out of our personal space?”

By this time, she was in our faces while complaining. Her husband was just watching and kind of looks ashamed.

Mother: “Yeah, well, you guys shouldn’t be here! The limit is fourteen, and I know you guys are older than that!”

Friend: “Actually, [My Name] and I are both thirteen. I have my ID on me if you want to see it.”

My friend started pulling out her ID from her wallet. The lady huffed and left before she could even see it. The family left five minutes later, and we had the ground to ourselves.

I am working part-time in a drug store, running a register. I’m seventeen years old, but most people think I look significantly older — some have mistaken me for thirty! Having a full beard just adds to it.

This drug store is smack-dab in the middle of my school’s district, so all of the teenagers who shop there go to the same high school I do. I also see their parents, many of whom I recognize. Usually, I’ll say, “Oh, you’re what’s-his-name’s Mom/Dad,” and make brief small talk, and off they go.

One day, a lady comes in with a last name on the check that I recognize, but I can’t fully place it. When she shows me her ID, I see a small pic next to it with her and her two daughters, and I QUICKLY recognize them. One is in my graduating class, and the other is two years behind but has a class with me.

Me: “Oh, you’re [Classmate]’s mom! I thought you looked—”

She QUICKLY slams her checkbook shut with a horrified look on her face.

Classmate’s Mom: “How do you know my daughters?! They’re only high schoolers!”

It takes me a second to get over the initial shock of her reaction and another second for me to realize the reason; she’s wondering why this “old guy” is hanging around teenage girls, ESPECIALLY her daughter!

Me: “Uh, ma’am? I’m seventeen.”

We both had a good laugh about it. She learned not to jump to conclusions, and I learned I should SHAVE more often.

I am a senior manager at my company, and for the most part, I get on well with my colleagues. My company hires an eighteen-year-old kid as a general worker for a certain department. He has nothing to do with my role or department. I meet him briefly once or twice and he seems a little bit strange. Quickly, I hear on the grapevine that he’s been irritating some of his coworkers with some dumb antics.

Then, for no reason, [New Hire] begins to come into my office daily. Whenever he comes in, he never knocks, and then he begins talking in some weird, indecipherable voice and starts stumbling around comically. He then laughs and quickly runs out of my office.

At first, I brush it off as just odd, but after a few days of this, I finally lose patience and snap. 

Me: “LOOK, YOU LITTLE PRAT, I HAVE F****** WORK TO DO! WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

The kid looks as if he’s just been shot and quickly drains of colour. He then stands there awkwardly.

Me: “WHY DO YOU KEEP BARGING INTO MY OFFICE? CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

His bottom lip starts to quiver, and I’m worried he’s going to wet himself right there and then.

Me: “GO ON, GET OUT!”

He practically sprints out of the office. I email my superior to advise what has happened. Not long afterward, I get a call from the kid’s manager. 

Manager: “[My Name], what on earth happened between you and [New Hire]? He’s claiming that you threatened to punch him, and now he’s going around saying you want to fight him in the car park after work and he’s asking people to back him up! What is going on?”

Me: “No, that’s not at all what happened. He keeps randomly coming to my office, speaking in a strange voice, and stumbling around. Frankly, he’s been a pain in the a** all week! I told him off and advised him that he get lost and go back to work. I never threatened him.”

Manager: “Sorry… You said he’s been bothering you all week?”

Me: “Yes, I didn’t want to disturb you, and I know he’s new, but this is getting out of hand.”

Manager: “Hmmm… He definitely didn’t mention that part! He’s been causing a few issues here; I’ve had to have words with him a few times. He seems to think he’s hilarious and that everyone loves his pranks. I will have a talk and get back to you. Sorry about this.”

A couple of hours later, I get another phone call from [Manager].

Manager: “Okay… I have no idea where the h*** this one started! His excuse was that he ‘thought you were Scottish,’ so apparently, his stumbling around your office was him impersonating a drunk Scotsman! He seemed to think you’d find it funny! No idea where the h*** he got this one from, especially with your accent.”

I have a very posh, southern English accent that is impossible to be mistaken for Scottish. I laugh heavily at this one. 

Me: “You’re kidding me, really?”

Manager: “I told him that, regardless of your nationality, what he did was heavily unprofessional and immature. Human Resources will have a talk with him, but it’s been made clear that he’s on thin ice now. I’ve made it clear that he’s banned from entering any offices without permission from me first. I really do apologize about this one. No idea what he was thinking.”

Every time I saw that kid after, he would scamper away like I was on fire. He didn’t last long at the company as his poor work combined with his annoying behaviour didn’t endear him to the company.